An Alternate Tour
by Squirrela
Summary: What would happen if the children did as they were told while on the tour? AU Wilder Wonka
1. Prologue Part One

_A little idea that hit me while reading a Chocolate Factory fanfic; I got to wondering what would have happened if Violet hadn't eaten the three course meal gum, and someone had instead asked why Mr Wonka had said not to. And Mr Wonka told them! AU Wilder Wonka. Something lighthearted to relieve the serious nature of my other short story._

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Prologue Part One

Behind the door, cloaked in shadows, and otherwise dressed to the nines in frock coat and top hat, Willy stood in the Factory entrance hall. He held his cane in one hand; the other resting at his side. This was it! Today was the day! This was the day he had been preparing for, ever since the day he realised that he needed an heir. All those months of planning were culminating in this grand finale!

He and James Wilkinson had spent a long time on this, working out just how Willy might find someone for the role: someone Willy liked; someone who would fit into the Factory. In the end, it had been James who suggested this plan. Generally speaking, Willy was the ideas man, but James was the 'people person', and to find an heir, by its very nature, meant rubbing shoulders with people. Willy hated the thought of this, but being unable to find something he liked better, and feeling the constraint of time, Willy had eventually conceded the point. The plan had one thing going for it: it kept the time with the outsiders to a minimum. All he was waiting on now was the clock striking ten, and he could get this show on the road. Today, the children would face the tour.

For much of this day Willy would be putting on an act, to see how the candidates reacted. How else was he supposed to discover their potential, or the lack thereof? Willy silently admitted to himself that he needed to put on the act for other reasons as well. It had been years since he had left the safe shelter of the Factory. Today he would be on view for the whole world to see. Knowing they wouldn't be meeting the real man was comforting.

He looked down at the small person holding onto his trouser leg in her excitement. Mampa had been just as involved in all of this as he was. She had let go, briefly, a few seconds ago, when he had handed her the book he had been reading: A Little Princess. Given his cynical view of this whole affair, the story was a welcome antidote. It helped remind him that there was hope. Willy smiled, remembering the evening the young Oompa-Loompas' had press-ganged him into reading them the story. Sometimes, those little imps… But the story was surprisingly good. It was through her very adversity that Sara had flourished. She had stuck to the values she had been taught as a young child, no matter what. Every time she was derided, Sara used that as a reason to fight harder.

The story inspired hope. Here was a girl who had persevered despite everything conspiring to keep her down. She was a loving child whose mother had died, and whose father, Captain Crewe, at the very start of the story, had plucked her from their home in India and put her in a boarding school in faraway England. Although her father loved her dearly, he was too far away to have much contact with her, and was often consumed by his work. He made up for this by ordering that his daughter be given all kinds of luxuries, to the point that it was astonishing the girl didn't become unbearably spoilt. On the contrary, she was friendly and generous to all she came across— befriending and teaching the servant girl Becky; welcoming the younger children; and encouraging the classmate who always got confused over her work.

Partway through the story, Captain Crewe was told the diamond mine he had invested in had failed. He succumbed to a fever, and died thinking he had lost everything. Back in England, the head of the school was horrified at all the expenses they had borne for his daughter, the now parentless pauper, and immediately relegated her to the station of 'girl of all work'. It was through this adversity that Sara had shown what she was made of, greeting each person with a smile, no matter how cold, or hungry, or abused she might be. She made friends with a rat, and kept up her friendships with those of her previous companions who were willing to risk the anger of Miss Minchin, the irate owner of the school. Her imagination was unparalleled, and this trait appealed to Willy's own love of imaginative answers. If only there were a person like Sara alive today. She would definitely have been someone Willy would choose…

At the end of the story, Sara was discovered by Mr. Carrisford, and his Indian servant, Ram Dass, through the adventures of a small monkey. Mr. Carrisford turned out to have been her father's business partner, and he had been looking for her, as the rumours were wrong: the diamond mine had flourished. Willy smiled, thinking about how no one deserved this good news more than Sara. She had retained her sweet spirit despite being treated in such wildly different ways that would have made a lesser child act out. Even before he knew who she was, Mr Carrisford had gotten such joy out of gifting her with small things, making her miserable existence that little bit better. But that paled in comparison to the joy he received upon turning her from a pauper into one of the most affluent children in the area. Would Willy also experience the joy of giving to someone so precious, from his own great wealth?

As the clock chimed the hour, Mampa jumped in excitement, moving over to the other side of the door, ready to operate the door for him. Here, she could stand unnoticed as she performed her duties.

"Almost time for you to go, Willy! It's time for you to put these children through the test!"

Willy smiled.

"No, my dear friend. Remember, it's not a test: it's an audition. A test suggests that they might pass or fail. In an audition, it's not about failing; it's about seeing who best fits the role. Out of all the personalities we are about to be presented with, which one best suits our brand of crazy?"

Mampa nodded, but Willy got the feeling that, once again, she didn't quite understand. Of course, there _was_ someone being tested. _He_ was being tested. As Mampa aimed the remote at the sensor, and pushed the button to open it, Willy contemplated this, pausing for a moment to lift his head and relax his shoulders. He would play this scene as the ringmaster. With that thought in mind, he limped to the door, leaning heavily on his cane, one staggering footstep after another. He passed the closed door, silhouetted momentarily in the glass pane, and turned to face the crowd, framed in the space of the now-open door.

Without pausing he headed for the steps, scowling at the ground as he navigated the hurdle in front of him. He had hated relinquishing control of the door to Mampa. That was a test. Leaning heavily on his cane, he limped down the stairs, one heavy foot after another. He barely registered the whispering sound of the door shutting securely behind him. Finally, he was down. He stood on the red carpeted courtyard, and lifted his head to survey the waiting crowd: Hundreds of people, standing as silent as himself, taken aback by his serious mien; shocked by his lameness.

As he continued, his eyes continued to rove the crowd, the open gate, the barriers holding the morass of people back, the carpet leading to the seating area where the five children, and their attendant adults were sat. Willy continued walking, drinking it all in, the shining sun casting a promising light on the day. Was this a sign that this experiment would actually turn out well? Despite the sun, Willy was swamped with doubt. His expectations were so high. People were so abominable. How could this answer? Willy didn't let himself take a moment longer to consider, before beginning a slow, limping walk.

With each heavy second passing, he thought more on that idea that he was being tested. Would he find a child he liked? That was a test. Willy smiled a grim little smile, as he avoided rolling his eyes in derision at the idea. He, like one of these coddled kiddies? There was a joke! The clock ticked again, as Willy stumbled another step on. He remembered the arduous process of putting the golden tickets into the specially chosen bars, and sending them out to the various areas of the world. Even if the destination of each ticket but the last was a mystery, selecting those bars, actually taking that first step had been a test. Would he really go through with this farce James had somehow coaxed him into?

Another second: another step. If he found a child he liked—unlikely—would the child he liked fit in well with the Factory? There was another test. How well would his choice work out? After each child had found their ticket, Willy and James had scrutinized every detail they could find about that ticket finder. Some of the information about each had seemed quite promising, but other characteristics were less so. Some of the information they had found was so disappointing, it confirmed Willy's belief that even children were awful creatures.

Although James argued that each had their good points, not one of the first four held the full promise that Willy anticipated. As far as the fifth child was concerned, they knew next to nothing about him! This lack would have concerned Willy, but he was certain that, if nothing else, the boy would be caught out by the Slugworth ruse. That scheme was the catch all. No rotten child would be able to avoid the lure of easy cash! Was any child free from the stench of rot? It seemed unlikely. Willy made a moue of distaste. Did he want to fail this test? Did he want James' idea to fail spectacularly? Much as an heir was needed, dealing with the unwashed masses would be repugnant. Would that they had found a better way to do this. They hadn't. There went another second. Willy took another lurching step forwards. Was he lurching to his doom?

One of these children might meet both criteria, an heir, and the right fit, he supposed, but having to deal with any of these children and their families regularly would be disgusting, with the fate of doing so, horrifying. The change in routine it required outraged his soul. Strangers in his heavenly haven! Was he willing to deal with this? But he needed an heir. Plus, if this doom were averted, if any child met one of the criteria, but didn't meet the other, then this whole day was a failure. Did he want to fail? No! He was driven to succeed! He had to pass this test, however much he hated the mere idea of letting anyone into the dwelling place of his creativity, the abode of his imagination, his hallowed halls. The thought brought a melancholic mood with it.

Just then, a brick of a different colour caught his eye. Raising a hand, Willy grasped his hat and removed it from his head. Holding it out of harm's way by his side, he focused his attention on the open gate ahead, and the ten people he was about to spend the day with. They didn't know it, but they were in for their first surprise! He took another step, inserting the tip of his cane into the sticky slot they had prepared for it. The cane broke loose from his grasp. Ah! He stumbled forwards another step or two, before allowing himself to fall forwards into a perfect somersault. The crowd came alive with happy gasps and clapping as they watched him spring up to face them, grim smile transformed into one of delight.

Playing things far more naturally now, Willy welcomed everyone to the Factory. Basking in their approval, he bowed his head to the crowd. Now he was standing at the open gate, observing the reactions each child made to his act, and wondering if any of them would still be there at the end of the audition. After weeks of learning about each child through news reports, now he would be able to form an opinion of them in person. What the children didn't know, but would soon find out, was that he was going to act as absurdly as he could in order to do so! Now that the guinea pigs were right here before him, Willy couldn't wait!

They were sat, for the most parts, boy, girl — the exceptions being that some of the attendant adults broke the pattern. The local boy, or rather, his grandfather, started the pattern, while the gun-obsessed lad finished it. After a moment longer of silence, Willy invited the children and their attendant adults to approach the gate. They left the platform in a rush. Who would reach him first? It was a complete melee of arms and legs, as the group tried to pass through the bottle neck of the clear-of-crowd path down to the gate. Willy replaced his hat on his head as he watched. One of the girls ended up winning the battle, complete with a lot of pushing and shoving. She was attired in an expensive-looking mink coat. She offered up her name, along with the golden ticket she had discovered.

"Veruca!" Willy cordially welcomed her and her father to the Factory, while reviewing in his mind everything they had discovered about this child. She was the second child to discover a ticket, the product of a doting family. Her name was unusual. Who chose to call their daughter after a foot infection? Did her parents assume that a child would 'infect' their family life, tying them down, and so affecting their feet? Willy wouldn't call an animal such a thing, never mind a child. The appellation was no more than an insult.

Her father owned his own nuts company, while her mother was one of those society Moms. Oh, sorry, she was British, so she was a society Mum then! Willy had pointed out to James that the problem with Veruca was that she didn't seem to know the meaning of the word 'no,' quite possibly because no one ever used it around her. Her sense of entitlement was gargantuan. A child like that, staying in his Factory? No chance!

James reported that she had seemed intrigued when he made Slugworth's pitch to her, and had displayed a vague interest, but she would likely only bother about it if the opportunity fell into her lap. He didn't think money was what drove her. James also argued that her attitude showed that she was confident, and this would be a very important thing were she to end up being Willy's choice. Willy had rolled his eyes at the latter comment. As far as the former went, privately, Willy believed that having parents who seemed to fall over themselves to provide for her every whim, Veruca didn't need to worry about money.

It had taken them a long while to work out what room would be the best to introduce her to. What would appeal to her, really make the place stand out in her memory, and be a key part of her apprenticeship, were she to join the team? Finally, after the fifth interview, where she was surrounded by animals, James suggested that the room with the geese who laid the golden chocolate eggs was maybe the thing to impress her. If they wanted something that would show the Factory off in all its glory to someone who loved animals, that was the one to go for. Hopefully, she would like the geese, and that would be the room they could start her apprenticeship off in; were she to turn out to fit in well with the Factory, that was.

Each time they discussed her, James would argue that despite the obvious flaws, Veruca had potential. Would she live up to it though, or would the spoilt minx take over? James had high hopes, and Willy knew that he had to give the girl a chance. James might be right, despite Willy's doubts. With that thought, Willy backed away from the gate with a flourish, inviting Veruca, the minx dressed in mink, and her father to enter.

The next child in the melee was Augustus. Once again, Willy found himself shaking a hand as he welcomed the boy and his mother to the Factory. Once again, the pertinent information, as covered with James earlier on, was reviewed in his mind as Willy found something suitable to comment on. Augustus was, naturally, the ticket winner they knew most about. He was a German boy, whose father owned the butcher shop in his small town, and the first to find his ticket. It was easy to see that the whole family loved their food. They were constantly eating. Sometimes, they didn't discriminate too carefully about what they put in their mouths. They seemed to be happy eating things that Willy would have called 'uneatable'.

James, who had visited the boy in his Slugworth persona, stated that apparently food was more important than money to the boy. When he mentioned the gobstopper, Augustus had responded: "Yes. I eat it!"

James suggested that the Chocolate Room would be a perfect way to introduce Augustus to the Factory. A room which was almost completely eatable! What better way to introduce and show off the Factory to a boy so focused on his stomach?

Willy had to repress a sigh as he pondered the boy in front of him. Willy believed that Augustus just didn't have the ability to avoid eating everything in front of him … The Chocolate Room would be left in ruins! Augustus would steal candy from another child, not because he meant to be nasty, but because he saw food, and had to eat it. If Willy's suspicions were right, there would be no question of Augustus ever being offered the apprenticeship.

James had been quick to defend Augustus and attempt to point out his good points. James believed that Augustus was the easiest of the children to understand. If you wanted him to do something, you simply had to appeal to his tastebuds, so he had that going for him. There was the weight issue to be concerned about; but with careful management, they ought to overcome that problem. If Augustus were willing to work with them, and could understand that there are times when you have to concentrate on making candy rather than eating it, he could be a real possibility.

Despite Willy's doubts, he knew there was a slight chance James may have the right of it. This was the only reason he had agreed to the suggestion of showing the children the Chocolate Room. It would showcase both the Factory and whether Augustus was boy or hellion. Willy had to give Augustus a fair chance. If he didn't he would be letting James down. More importantly, he would be letting himself down. At that, Willy smiled and finished his welcomes, waving Augustus, the button popping glutton, and Mrs Gloop through into the courtyard proper.

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_A Little Princess was written by Frances Hodgson Burnett, first published in complete form in 1905. According to Wikipedia, it has since been the subject of several film adaptations, the one that seems to be known the best wasn't released until 1995. An ebook version is available from Project Gutenberg. _

_I first came up with the idea for this story over three years ago – the initial concept was a mere shadow of what this story has ended up being. My thanks are due to my RL friend who kindly proofread my first drafts, and subsequent rewrites for me._

_As always – if you recognise it from elsewhere, the chances are, it doesn't belong to me._


	2. Prologue Part Two

Prologue, Part Two

Once Augustus made way, another girl approached. This had to be Violet. Her father owned a thriving used car dealership. This left her Mom to please herself. She did a few shifts on reception at the dealership each week, and otherwise maintained a steady clientele at the local beauty parlour, where she worked as a nail and makeup artist; not that the mother was interested in anything but her own hair, nails, and makeup! Oh! Her trips to the local nightclub, with the people she knew from work, were also dear to her heart.

During her earlier years, Violet had been brought up by her grandmother, someone who loved her dearly. 'Grams' had seen to Violet's manners, and had brought her up to dislike the makeup and beauty products her mother was so fond of. "A little makeup is alright, Violet dear, but the colours need to be tasteful; they have to suit your complexion; the more natural they look, the better. Pale pink nail varnish is suitable at your age, and others might be alright as you get older, but I hope I never see you wearing pillarbox red! That's just tacky!"

Unfortunately for Violet, her grandmother had died before Violet had turned ten. Without her, Violet was cared for, essentially, but anything else was left strictly up to her. Violet was obsessed with chewing gum. Her mother's dislike of the substance only encouraged her in the habit, but there was more to it than that. If Violet did something her mother objected to, she got Mom's attention: even arguing was better than being ignored.

Loving gum as she did, the only reason Violet had bought any chocolate bars was to have a chance at winning a Golden Ticket. This conclusion put Willy off her immediately. She seemed obnoxious, and rude, and far too self-obsessed. She wouldn't care about anyone but herself. The way her father acted, as if the Golden Ticket affair were simply a way to advertise his used cars, brought Willy back to his book: A Little Princess. He could only hope that Mr Beauregarde didn't invest so much time in his business that he spent no more time with his daughter than Captain Crewe had managed!

Remembering Sara Crewe, Willy wondered… hoped… Would he find a Sara amongst all his ticket winners? Was that asking too much? Returning to Violet, James had said that she had looked interested when he approached her about the gobstopper. He also said he saw money signs rolling through her father's eyes when he heard of the opportunity. Then Violet had turned away, with an audible, "Nah! Gobstoppers aren't gum! They don't have the same staying power!"

James had chuckled as he reported her words; it seemed that James felt she had real potential. Willy, however, shuddered. If given the choice, he would rather choose a person with almost any other vice to a girl who used gum as if it were cud, chewing incessantly. At least there was a point to a cow chewing cud. If you weren't a cow, chewing gum did nothing but give your jaws a workout! And it was horribly sticky and messy. Take it out of your mouth, and it went everywhere it shouldn't. As far as Willy was concerned, his first impressions of Violet made her an untenable choice.

Feeling a wave of revulsion pass through him, Willy shook himself: he had to give the girl a fair trial. When pondering the best room to introduce Violet to, the room that would encourage her to show off her potential, Willy remembered that he had experimented with gum. He'd thought gum a good way to deliver a three-course meal to someone. No other sweet, he'd decided, could do that in the way gum could. He had conducted all the experiments necessary to find this out; he knew he was right. Perhaps Violet would be interested in seeing his experiment. Maybe, if she were a better fit than he expected, he could get her involved with refining it, making it marketable.

Currently, the idea was on hold, with the three-course gum machine in a room that was rather too far off the beaten track. But, if he had someone who liked gum on hand, it might be easier to refine the difficulties. He'd move the machine to the Inventing Room. Willy already wanted the tour to include the Inventing Room. The gobstoppers were in that room, and with James planting seeds of intrigue regarding the gobstoppers, it was essential they go there. If there were the slightest chance that they would resume work on the gum again, the machine would need to go to the inventing room anyway, and, with two important things to look at in the Inventing Room, there would be twice the reason to visit the place. Plus, Violet's potential downfall, mixed with the catch-all cure of the gobstopper experiment, would be killing two birds with one stone.

Violet's potential downfall? Killing two birds? If he had been alone, sardonic laughter would have filled the air. That word 'potential' was surplus to requirements. This child was a wash-out before she even started. Scolding himself again, Willy reminded himself that he was not to prejudge the child. He didn't know her yet. He would let her take the full audition, just like every other ticket winner would. With a beckoning hand, Willy invited Violet, the chomping champ — chompion? — and Mr Beauregarde, to head on through to the courtyard of the Factory.

Next to reach Willy was Mike, the fourth ticket winner. He was ten years old. He seemed fascinated by guns and television. He was another who didn't like chocolate, preferring other kinds of candy, but, like Violet, Mike had decided to have his mother purchase some chocolate each week, until he found a Golden Ticket anyway.

James' report from having met the boy noted that the family lived in an affluent home. The mother was a high school teacher, teaching Geography. The bumptious 'I know everything, and am always right,' attitude the woman exuded was infuriating. Even just watching her acting the self-righteous housewife on the television caused Willy's hands to flex. There was one thing certain, if Willy were to judge the children based upon the adults they had brought with them, none of them would be a good fit for the Factory. And Mike was further away than most. Mrs Teevee united avarice and arrogance in a way that made Willy's skin crawl.

With his Mom being on a school timetable as well, Mike never wanted for being doted on by her. The father was high up in… television! That was what had begun little Mike's obsession with the object. The father was almost never home, and this was the way Mike connected to him, by watching things Mike knew the man had worked on. If he developed a shared interest, 'Pop' might take an interest in him, after all. Mike watched TV constantly. He went from one programme to the next, and dressed as if he were a character in a Western — right up to the two toy guns: substitutes for the Colt .45 his father wasn't willing to give him until he was 12.

When he was watching TV, Mike was fit for nothing but that programme, and if the show were on during meal time, his Mom would bring a tray in, and place it on his lap. Willy was astonished she didn't feed him, mouthful by mouthful. Honestly; could this child do anything for himself? He seemed to have been taught that, if he just sat and let others get on with it, everything would be done for him. Did the boy even have a brain? If he did, it would surely be mush. Still, mush was mouldable, perhaps. If one could be bothered trying to mould it.

James had only smiled, and stated that possibly this boy would be interested in the Wonkavision Room. Actually, it was likely that all the children would be interested in that, but Mike likely the most. Willy had smirked, and written 'Wonkavision Room' on the schedule. But like Violet, this child seemed to be a hopeless case. Mike and his mother were riveted by the offer given to them by 'Slugworth'. Against all odds, upon hearing the offer, Mike turned his attention away from the television and actually listened, calling his Mom over. This caused Willy to immediately place a question mark in the 'trustworthy' column under Mike's name. There was no point in picking an heir you couldn't trust.

James was quick to defend the boy, pointing out that maybe this was exactly what Mike needed. Maybe this would encourage him to become the best person he could be. Maybe he would end up being a good fit for the Factory. Willy decided that he would withhold judgement, and see what he was like today, but, for Mike, the pre-tour information was not looking good. With that thought, Willy warmly ushered the wanabe gunslinger and his mother through into the Factory grounds.

There was one child left. That would be the anomaly, the one they knew so little about. He stood in ratty clothing, with an older gentlemen next to him. The latter's outfit was definitely old fashioned, but not too worn. They didn't seem to have the sense of entitlement that the others had, and both seemed thrilled to be here, in a way that the others weren't. Something inside Willy relaxed upon seeing this. People who were interested in the Factory, and in his candy, for themselves? How refreshing! They were locals of course, which could well explain the interest. Familiarity might breed contempt, but it could also foster a sense of belonging, and it seemed that this pair might own a sense of loyalty to the brand that belonged to 'their' town. Of course, that sense of ownership might inspire an even more insidious sense of entitlement in the boy, it was hard to know.

James had discovered this ticket winner before the news had. With less than twenty-four hours before the tour started, as soon as he finished all of his last minute jobs to prepare for the tour, James had left to head to Bill's candy store. His mission: to see if he could locate the ticket that had been sent there; a mission which had abruptly ended, when he realised the ticket had just been found! It had been discovered by a boy who, when James took on his Slugworth persona and asked the boy to steal from Wonka's Factory, 'looked troubled, sir'. Beyond that, James had had little to report.

Looking at the information there was available in the morning papers, Willy found that the boy's name was Charlie Bucket. He was eleven years old. He lived on the outskirts of the city, with his Mom and four grandparents. He attended the local school, and after school, had a paper route. This handful of statements summed up all the local news people had been able to dredge up about Charlie Bucket. As if that were any use!

This meant there was nothing for James and Willy to discuss. They would just have to take this latecomer as he came. Given their lack of knowledge about the boy, Willy wondered if they had already let him down. It seemed that the full tour experience would be missed by this small boy. It was a sobering thought, but Willy determined that he could not let this happen. Just like the others, Willy would find some way to let this lad show what he was made of. Not that he would be a good candidate of course! There were no good candidates for the job — not in this crowd — which was why Willy kept telling James that the event was a travesty, and if there were no other way of doing so, the gobstoppers would prove it!

Willy stood back. These five were the candidates he had going into the tour… The four wretches, and… The Enigma. How would the day end? What would Willy be left with when he finally closed the doors again? That was the question that haunted, but now that it was happening, stirred excitement in him. Now he would see for himself what each of the children were really like. Now he would be able to introduce them to the Factory. The thought that had appalled him, now thrilled him. With a few more words of welcome, he let Charlie — the enigma stigma? — and his grandfather into the grounds. Let the weeding out, er, the audition, begin!

* * *

My thanks to everyone who has read this. The prologue, of sorts, is now complete.

Guest: Wilder Wonka — Veruca doing what she is told would be a challenge indeed. But, without a few challenges, would there actually be a story to tell? I wonder if that might be boring. Read on, and in a few chapters time, you will find out how things work out for her.

You might notice that I call Mike, and his mother, 'Teevee.' This is due to the 1971 Film using that variation of the spelling, rather than the correct 'Teavee.' I debated which version to use, but in the end, decided that I had better stick with the film version.


	3. Chapter 1

Chapter One - The Tour Proper

The tour started off well enough. Willy found himself chuckling at the gasps of horror, as the hand coat hangers grabbed hold of the outer accoutrements of the unsuspecting individuals beneath them.

"Little surprises around every corner, but nothing dangerous!" he hastened to reassure them.

The parents had baulked at the kids being asked to sign the contract, but his fiat that if the children didn't sign they wouldn't be allowed to enter the Factory soon squashed that. Honestly, the children themselves had done the squashing, with each informing their parents that there was no way they were going to miss this treat now! All except little Charlie Bucket. He waited until the others had signed before turning wide eyes upon Willy.

"Gosh, Mr. Wonka, there's so much of it, and the writing keeps getting smaller. I'm not even sure it's all in English... Can you tell me what it says?" The boy's entire stance begged for enlightenment.

Chuckling at this different type of audacity, Willy explained. "Well, Mr. Inquisitive, it says no more and no less than that you will do as you are told, and if you do not do so, you accept full responsibility for the consequences," Willy responded, waiting to see how Charlie would take this.

The boy shrugged before looking away, his expression turning thoughtful. Somehow Willy felt that this was a way the boy protected himself. Ask questions, but don't push. Show enough backbone not to seem easy prey, but not so much so to be considered anyone's rival. Well, today, whether they knew it or not, all of these children were rivals to each other. Master Bucket would have to hone his strategy if he wanted to win.

Not that any of the children knew that there was anything beyond the current Factory tour at stake. No, Willy was hugging that delicious morsel of information to himself. The excitement of knowing that he knew something that everyone else was unaware of, was one of the few reasons Willy found his participation in such a farce pallatible. Despite his lack of knowledge, Charlie might yet rise to the challenge; he asked the right questions. Willy decided he'd relish discovering for himself who this child really was.

"And how do I know you are telling me the truth, Mr. Wonka?"

Willy chuckled again, a deep, uplifting sound. "Well, unless you choose to read the document for yourself, Charlie, you don't. However, I assure you, as much as you can trust the word of one who is a stranger to you, I am telling you the truth."

Charlie looked at him speculatively for a moment longer. "Oh!" Then he turned to his grandfather. "What do you think, Grandpa Joe?"

The older man fixed Willy with a penetrating gaze. How did this make any difference? Charlie was too young to sign anything and make it legally binding. Taking Charlie by the shoulders, he fairly pushed his grandson to the wall. "Sign away, Charlie; we got nothing to lose."

Willy pursed his lips. Nothing to lose? Why did he say that? Everyone has something to lose. Was it possible the old man knew something Willy didn't? Was it simply that the old gent was reckless? He could be. Willy narrowed his eyes, as he looked around the gathered group, gawking at the continuing byplay. That was alright; he didn't want their best behaviour, he wanted to see their unvarnished characters, warts and all. If he could push the right buttons, he could see a bit more of who these people were. Was this one of Grandpa Joe's buttons? No, the old gent was merely excited about seeing the Factory. By all appearances, Charlie's Grandpa Joe was far more keen on Willy's Factory than were any of the other adults. How intriguing; Willy might actually like this pair.

As Charlie signed his name, Willy continued to muse. That little boy was impressing in a way Willy hadn't expected. Charlie didn't feel the need to show off any bratty sense of entitlement he may have had. He stuck to his values, made sure he knew exactly what he was doing, and still accepted that even with believing himself right, he should double check with those in charge of him first. He didn't ask permission exactly, but he did make sure that his grandfather didn't disagree with his decision. This could prove valuable if he were to become Willy's apprentice. Charlie… he could be live-with-able. He could be the answer. Willy blinked, the shock of such a positive reaction to one of the children taking him by surprise.

The other children also impressed him, but not favourably. Willy could barely suppress rolling his eyes. Their audacity was second to none. With a suppressed smile, Willy remembered the discussion he had held with James about this part of the tour. James had been in favour of having the adults sign instead of the children. This would make it legally binding, he'd pointed out. Willy had briefly considered it, before deciding against the idea. Not only did he want the children to feel like it was their decision, but if the parents were in any way disagreeable to the idea, this would lead to yet another delay in getting into the Factory proper. Delay? That might be the best outcome, there were worse possibilities: they might not get past the first hurdle! The tour might end before it had fully begun, and with the amount of energy already invested in this event, that eventuality was unthinkable.

Willy ushered them on through to the Corridor of Illusions, noting while doing so, that the parents continued to impress with their outrage at the unusual. Honestly, did they think he would let them enter his hallowed grounds any easy way they chose? He had worked out his routine with absolute care, to make sure that no one had any idea what he was doing. He had to push in just the right place for the Wonkaturnavator to work, and if he made them move around like sheep in a sheep pen while he was at it, then maybe they wouldn't notice the sensation of outside movement so easily.

Willy was ecstatic when the closest anyone else had got was by suggesting they were in a funhouse, rather than a Factory. That comment had potential! Funhouse candy made in a funhouse room! Sweets that made you see the world as if reflected in funhouse mirrors! However, that new candy idea needed shelving for the moment. He could think on it further, once this farce was over with.

In some ways, the funhouse comment fitted quite well into the next phase of the tour. One brief musical lock later, and he opened the door to the Chocolate Room. It was time to invite them into his world of pure imagination. Really, Willy was still questioning his sanity doing this. He didn't want to let these horrible people into the paradise he had built for himself. Some of the brattier, more impudent kids kept trying to push him, hoping to maybe get round and down into the room quicker than he was ready to allow. A firm tap of his walking-stick near a hand was enough to discourage this.

Finally, they reached the bottom of the stair case. Was he really going to do this? Willy sighed. He had to do this: he needed an heir. If he didn't do this, how would he find one? At that, he suddenly, and graciously, bowed, forming into a physical invitation for those in front of him to make their full entrance to the room. As they went, he continued singing to himself about the wonder of imagination, trying to stifle his disquietude. Or at least, ignore it. After a few gasps of wonder, which relaxed his sceptical thoughts for the moment, the comments his cynical side had been waiting for were made. Mrs. Gloop mentioned that the river was horribly dirty, and one of the know-it-all fathers, who insisted on correcting him on every point imaginable, decided to point it out to him. Seriously, did these people think that he would allow such a thing to happen in his Factory? Were they trying to prove something? Finally Willy allowed that the river was made of chocolate, and metaphorically sat back to watch the fun.

This fun included seeing Grandpa Joe seeming to inhale the contents of the Chocolate Room. Much as he was keen on letting people make their own decisions and deal with the consequences, Willy couldn't feel quite content ignoring the gluttony which exceeded that of the Gloop family, and found himself wandering over to Joe. "You might want to pace yourself, Grandpa Joe, sir. You might make yourself sick if you continue to eat like that." Willy would rather not deal with people who were feeling less than well on a candy tour.

The next interlude involved having to explain the presence and appearance of his workforce. The children were all agog with wonder at the little people, who were stood safely on the other side of the river. The adults? Dismissive was the best description of their attitude. All except for Grandpa Joe, of course. Veruca almost had Willy box her ears when he heard her demand that her father buy her an Oompa-Loompa. Willy did not condone slavery! It seemed that Violet didn't think much of the suggestion either, as she immediately rounded on Veruca and told her off. That realisation caused Willy to relax a little. Surprise, surprise, Violet had something going for her! He could maybe like her.

Soon after this, someone alerted him to the fact that Augustus was trying to drink the river. "Oh, uh, Augustus, please don't do that. My chocolate must never be touched by human hands!" To Willy's shock, the boy stopped and looked at him.

"Why not?" Augustus asked.

Willy stood looking at the lad, open mouthed. Had he really stopped drinking the chocolate when he was asked to? This didn't seem typical behaviour for the boy. Willy shook himself before answering. Deciding not to mention just how many bars of chocolate the river represented, he explained: "Well, you see, Augustus, the river chocolate goes into my candy bars, and we can't sell them if the chocolate isn't kept free of contamination. Humans carry many germs on their hands, which are dangerous to others if eaten. When you put your hands in the river, the germs on your hands came into contact with the chocolate, making it impossible for us to sell it."

"Sorry," the boy grunted awkwardly, just to have Mr. Wonka wave him off. "Anyway," he muttered, and clapped his hands. Willy turned to look up stream along the river, towards the mouth of a large tunnel that showed around a turn.

The group glanced at each other in confusion. What had got the chocolatier's attention now? Then Willy turned to face the group again and began speaking.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, we are now going for a little boat ride."

The words were spoken in French. Mr. Salt glanced sideways at him. "What's he talking about?" asked Mr. Salt, confusion evident in his eyes.

Willy turned the full weight of his somehow steel-like eyes on him. "Would you like to come on board the Wonkatania?" Willy returned, still speaking in French, and gesturing towards a paddle boat, operated by Oompa-Loompas, which now floated along the river.

Mrs. Teevee, determined to prove how cultured she was, returned a short comment in French, just after Mr. Salt insisted that Veruca should be allowed to board first. Soon after, the party walked up the ramp with care, with Willy rolling his eyes at the officious Mr. Salt. It quickly became apparent that there would only be enough space for everyone if the two girls sat on their father's laps, and even at that it would be a bit of a push. With everyone seated, Willy gave a nod to the Oompa-Loompas, who turned to their tasks. The boat jostled slightly as they set off.

They had only been going a short while when Willy realised he was sat next to Charlie, the only child who hadn't been objectionable so far. Seeing how thin the boy looked, Willy decided he wanted to help him, and surreptitiously picked up a ladle and a mug. Using the implement to scoop out a generous portion of river chocolate he handed the mugful to the boy.

"Drink up, Charlie," Willy instructed, leaving no room for demurral. "You look like you could use this," he explained.

The boy flushed, even as he responded. "Thank you Mr. Wonka." Then he took a long, slow, swallow of the thick liquid, a bright smile crossing his face as he tasted the warm and frothy substance for the first time. It was incredible. "Oh Mr. Wonka! I've never tasted anything this good before!" he exclaimed. "Not even one of your candy bars!"

Feeling somewhat surprised at the lack of comments about 'favouritism' from the other passengers, Willy simply smiled enigmatically down at the lad.

A second later, Charlie glanced at his Grandfather. Willy followed his gaze, spotting a disgruntled, almost mulish, expression mirrored there. A moment later, the mug of chocolate ended up in Joe's grasp. Willy couldn't quite tell whether it was Charlie, or Joe, who masterminded the change. The angry look was wiped away by a smug expression, and when the old man had swallowed the remainder of the mug, this changed to pure blissful contentment.

Willy turned his attention to the rest of the journey, continuing to smile to himself as the passengers did react as expected to the somewhat sinister tunnel looming in front of them. As they entered the dark and somehow forbidding orifice, Willy began to add to the general sense of disquietude which was starting to pervade his companions, by starting to hum to himself. His listeners, already somewhat spooked by a sense of foreboding, were made even more aware of the ominous atmosphere by the occasional phrase they caught in the creepy tune, and glimpses of the horrific visuals that surrounded them on all sides.

"No way of knowing…"

Violet sat, stunned into silence, sending a sidelong glance at her father. Why did the not knowing seem like such a dangerous thing?

"Going..."

Augustus shuddered, and clung onto his equally gargantuan mother, as they rushed through the rapids in the half dark. Why had he got on this boat in the first place?

"Rowing…"

Mike found this whole trip an amazing thrill. What an adventure. He wouldn't have missed this for anything he could have been offered. His mother shrieked in his ear, just as Charlie gasped.

"Slugworth!" the boy's voice called.

Mike only just heard him above all the other clamour. Ouch! As much as he was loving the journey, his ears were not pleased at the treatment they were receiving.

"Flowing…"

Veruca shrieked. As much as the paddle boat had appealed before, she was quickly concluding that it wasn't as beautiful as she had initially thought. Who would want a boat after this experience? It would be a miracle if no one were sick. Augustus was starting to look suspiciously green.

Suddenly the volume of Wonka's voice raised, and lost all tunefulness, as he began to shout about hurricanes blowing! Danger growing! Fires of hell glowing! Grisly reaper mowing! Danger growing! Rowers rowing! And whatever else they were doing, certainly not slowing!

The timbre and volume of his voice got louder and louder, causing everyone on board to huddle together in a desperate attempt to gather courage from each other, until one of the fathers called out that it had 'gone quite far enough!'

Wonka agreed with the man, and called to the workers to 'stop the boat!'

In that instant, the lights came on, Willy hushed, and it all stopped. Tension ebbed away as the boat was secured to the nearest bank. Seeing the growing level of consternation amongst his guests, and knowing he needed to counteract this at once, Willy encouraged them all to disembark, musing to himself while doing so that the biggest thing which stood out to him from that experience was that Charlie had tensed only for one moment of the boat ride, when a picture of James, in his role as Arthur Slugworth, had flashed in front of him.

This was immensely pleasing. Charlie could cope with everything thrown at him, but Slugworth was not Charlie's friend. Charlie's reaction was different to that of every other child on the tour. Their visages spoke far more of guilt at that picture than anything else. The adults that accompanied them looked equally guilty. The only exception to this was Charlie's grandfather. He had looked mildly curious at the image, almost as if he half recognised the face; then he was distracted by Charlie's horrified exclamation, and turned his attention to his grandson. Had the group but known it, that one image of Slugworth was the whole reason for that part of the tour. The various reactions to the picture told Willy far more about the values and motivations of each than a hundred conversations with them could. Aside from Charlie's, Mike reaction had stuck out: he'd spent the whole journey laughing, egging Willy on. That boy was a thrill-seeker extraordinaire.

* * *

"Little surprises around every corner, but nothing dangerous," is, of course, a direct quote from the 1971 film, "Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory". As are are, "Sign away, Charlie; we got nothing to lose," "Oh, uh, Augustus, please don't do that. My chocolate must never be touched by human hands!" and, "What's he talking about?"

My thanks to everyone who has read this so far, particularly to Linkwonka88, and Turrislucidus, for thr reviews. Limkwonka88... the story is complete, although the rest needs thorough editing before it is ready to post, so update speed might slow down some now. Turrislucidus. I am preaching to the choir, I know, but I believe that, outside of a few, small, elements that can be lifted from the initial source material, the book, there is no excuse to mix and match versions of the story. You pick one, you stick with it, warts and all. In my opinion, anything else is the author admitting that they don't have a good enough imagination to come up with a more 'in character' storyline, and so, they have to rely on other people's ideas. Beyond having no wish to insult myself, why would I pick entire chunks out of a version that is not my, personal, cup of tea?


	4. Chapter 2

Given the news that Denise Nickerson is no longer with us, I thought it might be fitting tribute to post her character's big scene today. Thinking about making Violet's actions here believable was my reason for coming up with this story in the first place...

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Chapter 2

The group disembarked with a haste that gave way to confusion, as they saw their current surroundings. Willy smirked, as he saw most of the group looking at each other in bewilderment: the rather bland mix of canal bank and tunnel type walls didn't make this location one which would instantly come to mind as a stopping point when on a candy Factory tour. The idea of this area being located indoors was startling in its incongruity, without taking the Factory location into account. Charlie, and his Grandfather, looked around in curiosity, before reading the list of contents on the door of the storage room next to the Inventing Room. The Hair Cream seemed to perplex them.

Having given time for the group to catch their breath, Willy explained their current location. Just as he was about to offer admittance to the Inventing Room he found himself slipping into German. Willy had learned several languages as a young boy – he was as familiar with those alternative languages as he was his mother tongue. That being the case, he often forgot that others didn't know multiple languages as well as he did; a fact made worse in that Willy wasn't always consciously aware of what language he was speaking. His personal assistant, James Wilkinson, often scolded Willy for slipping into something other than English, pointing out that James' own command of languages was nowhere near as extensive as Willy's.

On this occasion the wind was taken out of Willy's sails with a vengeance, as Mrs Gloop suddenly enveloped him in a hug of gratitude. She was very familiar with English, of course, but having been surrounded by an unrelenting wall of it for so long, she was overjoyed to hear her mother tongue again – she spoke so rapidly that Willy's eyes widened as his agile mind tied itself in knots, keeping up with the gushing effusions. As disconcerted as he was, it took quite some time for Wonka to respond to, and quiet, her exclamations of joy, so that he could continue on with his scripted introduction.

"No touching, no tasting, no telling what you see…" Mrs. Gloop fixed her son with a sharp stare "Mind his words, Augustus!" she warned him, much to Willy's continuing amazement. Augustus gave her a meek nod of agreement, even as he assured her he would. Then, Wonka burled the key handle round and opened the door.

Willy was intrigued to see that even as Mike Teevee tasted some exploding candy, his mother appeared as if she were trying to catalogue everything in sight. Meanwhile the two girls, and their fathers, disparaged anything they couldn't instantly understand; with the level of comprehension they had shown thus far, that included the room's entire contents. This behaviour was not making Willy feel any more reconciled to their presence in his inner sanctum. He looked round and smiled at the sight of Augustus and Charlie looking only with their eyes. This pair were a refreshing antidote to the rest of the group and Willy enjoyed observing them for a few moments; until Violet's father looked under a sheet-covered machine and an alarm went off.

Then the explanation about the everlasting gobstoppers came out and Willy soon found himself handing one to each child, after extracting a promise that they would keep them to themselves. Willy deliberately missed out Charlie, waiting to see how he would react to this treatment.

For a moment it seemed that the boy's grandfather was about to object. Then Charlie said something. Given how noisy an environment the Factory was, Willy had spent many years perfecting his lip-reading abilities. This enabled him to converse with the Oompa-Loompas, regardless of what machines were operating. His skill proved useful in this situation and Willy deduced that Charlie had pointed out he had been given river chocolate when the others hadn't, so it was fair enough if Mr. Wonka chose not to give him a gobstopper on top of the previous treat. Then he almost caused Willy to laugh out loud, commenting that however nice it might taste, he would bet that the only reason that any of the gobstoppers would last forever was that they were such a strange shape, they would be too uncomfortable to suck. They weren't fit for the purpose of putting in your mouth. In short, Charlie doubted those were the real everlasting gobstoppers.

Casting an affectionate glance at the boy, Willy moved on, well aware that this young lad had rumbled one of his schemes. Of course these weren't the real everlasting gobstoppers. He needed some degree of protection in case one of the ticket winners found the real Arthur Slugworth. There was no way Willy was going to let the real formula out of the Factory until he was ready to properly market them. At that point he'd have other means of protection in place: the special procedures involved would be patented.

With a shrug of his shoulders and a nod of his head, Willy moved on. It was time to let them experience another machine in action: the three-course-meal gum machine. The children gawped in awe at the strange looking contraption, as it whirred, banged, clunked, and splatted its way to the completion of a sweet. Willy opened the plastic dispenser cover and plucked the sweet out, before holding it between two fingers. As he told the group about the wonders of the gum, he was aware of Violet watching him carefully. When he turned his head for a few minutes, to talk to the Mr. Salt, she focused intently on his hand, before she pounced and grabbed the gum. Then she started to stuff it into her mouth.

Willy sharpened his gaze on her. "I wouldn't do that if I were you," he told her. The girl was about to ignore him, when her eyes landed on Augustus. He had stopped what he was doing when Wonka told him to and he seemed the better for it. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to at least ask why not.

Sighing to herself, she carefully removed the square of gum from her mouth and examined it critically. "Why shouldn't I eat the gum, Mr. Wonka?" she asked, deciding to emulate Charlie's form of address.

Willy's eyes bugged out, as he murmured, "Well, what do you know. That's two for two!" What was happening here? Willy was rarely wrong when it came to anticipating how people would react. And yet, today, two otherwise obstreperous children had actually stopped and listened to him, when asked. That wasn't normal! People normally reacted true to form, and yet here were these two brats bucking the trend. It took another couple of minutes and a slightly louder question from Violet to get any response.

Willy chuckled, his confusion getting the better of him, as he registered what he was being asked. "I'm still working out a few bugs in the system, Violet," he explained. "The last Oompa-Loompa who tested the gum was fine until he reached desert, but then he turned blue. Then, as he continued chewing, he turned into a giant blueberry."

"What happened to him?" Violet asked, her eyes full of fear as she threw the gum as far away as possible. There was no way she wished to volunteer for that experience, thank you very much.

Having raised an eyebrow at the gratuitous littering, Willy turned to look at her, with compassion in his eyes. "Well, he went through a long and painful procedure which enabled the blueberry juice to be drained from him, and then he returned to normal, with a little bit of a bluish hue to him for a further couple of weeks.

"I'm glad you listened to me Violet. I wouldn't have wanted you to go through that procedure because you chose to ignore my warning," Willy finished. A haunting compassion coloured his tone, bringing tears to the young girl's eyes. Then he seemed to change, the gentleness disappearing as he dismissed her father's startled exclamation of protest.

Sam Beauregard was furious that Wonka had let them see a candy that could have turned his daughter into a blueberry. Violet rolled her eyes in frustration, as her father had been encouraging her to try the gum just a few minutes earlier. If anyone other than herself was to blame for her poor choices, it was her father, not Wonka. The latter had only discouraged her attempt, after all.

Slowly she edged up to Augustus and his mother. Mrs Gloop gave her a comforting hug, before asking her to go and pick the gum up. Violet wrinkled her nose, but did as she was bid, placing the gum back in the machine's dispenser. Mrs Gloop smiled at her, before the threesome followed the others to where Wonka was encouraging them to sample lickable wallpaper. Willy nodded at Mrs Gloop, silently thanking her for parenting the young girl so effectively.

Violet, oblivious to the byplay, considered the scene. If nothing else were clear, the fact that Mr. Wonka only told them to eat things he knew were safe to sample, was. They were to eat in the Chocolate Room, but not allowed to drink from the river, as it was going to be sold at the shops. They were not to eat the chewing gum, as Mr Wonka was yet to deal with the appalling side effects people suffered when eating it; but the lickable wallpaper was fine. Mr. Wonka had a reason for every instruction he gave. Musing on this, Violet enjoyed the tang of a pineapple for a little while, before they were swept off to the next room – the trampoline room.

Mr. Wonka whisked them along several corridors. Charlie found himself constantly looking around as one long grey corridor opened onto another. How on earth did Mr. Wonka avoid getting lost in the rabbit warren they seemed to be in? Surely they had just doubled back on themselves? The pace was so quick that there was hardly time to take anything in, that's if there was anything to see beyond the long grey walls, and the floors with the floating coloured lines and patterns. What on earth? The changing colours were similar to a rainbow... Every now and again, Charlie heard a siren in the distance; the bleeping noise caused him to look round in wonder. What was going on?

Then they moved from the almost sterile environment into an area which looked like it was made out of granite. Both floor and wall seemed to be composed of rock, and the ceiling seemed lower. It was getting darker; were they entering the mouth of a cave? Suddenly, as they took yet another turn, the gloom intensified and what was left of the light faded away. Mike's voice rang out.

"What happened to the light?" The boy sounded confused. Had he never experienced total darkness before? Maybe he hadn't – it sounded like he watched television all day every day. It was possible that the machine was never turned off. Even during that creepy boat ride, the images on the wall had provided some light.

Willy called a halt, and the group paused for a few minutes, letting their eyes acclimatise to the new levels of light. A short while later they could see well enough for Willy to start them moving again. They rounded a bend to spot a patch of light in front of them, before they pressed on, around another corner, to find that the ceiling suddenly disappeared – or so it seemed. Mr. Wonka informed them that they were now fifty feet underground, and that the ceiling in this part of the Factory was a good two hundred and fifty feet above ground level. The ceiling, which was made of glass, was three hundred feet above their heads.

Violet was looking at where the ground changed colour, and had a different texture, an expression of curiosity in her eyes. She knelt down and experimentally pushed against the floor. The ground gave beneath her hand, which continued to rest upon the strange substance.

"Ewww, it feels sticky!" she exclaimed, picking her hand up, and examining it closely. Willy looked at her for a moment, eyebrow raised.

"You don't like it Violet?" he asked in a surprised tone. "I thought you loved gum." The girl looked at Willy, horror painting her face.

"That's chewed gum?! Ewwwww!" Willy's eyebrows raised until Charlie thought they were about to disappear under his hat.

"My dear girl… Who said anything about the gum being chewed? This is fresh made sheets of boing-go-gum," his tone changed, signalling the beginning of a confidential aside. "I originally hoped to sell the gum, but unfortunately, it turned out to be far too effective. The poor Oompa-Loompa taste tester bounced so hard he narrowly avoided concussing himself. We then re-purposed it into the trampoline that helps us make our bouncy wine gums – "walk with a bounce in your step".

"You can see the Oompa-Loompas out there in the middle of the trampoline – it has a circumference of five-hundred feet – I wondered whether you would like to join them."

The group looked out to see where the Oompa-Loompas were bouncing high in the sky. Suddenly Augustus pointed upwards. "What are those up there Mr. Wonka?" Willy looked where he was pointing. Fifty feet above their heads a ledge ran around the circumference of the room. Willy could just see the door by which you entered on that level. On either side of the room to their left and right, small people were moving; waving their arms erratically through the air. There were seven on each side, each facing a partner across the gap.

"Those are the Oompa-Loompas who are batting the gums across the trampoline to each other. They used the ground level access points. I considered bringing you in at that level, but didn't want anyone freaking out at the idea of jumping so far down onto the trampoline"

A glance round the group confirmed the wisdom of the decision to miss that treat. Suddenly, Mrs. Teevee screamed – two of the Oompa-Loompas had just jumped off of the ledges they were perched on, and were tumbling down to the ground.

"They're going to be killed" she shrieked, pointing at them. As if to defy her proclamation, the two bounced a few times on the surface, catapulting two of their colleagues up to their previous stations. The two who had just jumped down waved to the group as they were bounced a good twenty-five feet back up in the air. They then flipped over, to land on their feet, as they continued bouncing. Then they began gaining momentum again.

The group drew in a shuddering breath of relief, almost as if they were a single organism. Realising the distraction was finished, Willy continued with his explanation.

"One Oompa-Loompa hits the gum over the gap, the other hits it back, while the Oompa-Loompas on the trampoline try to catch the gum in their mouth. Every gum which makes its way back and forth across the trampoline twenty times, without being eaten is counted as ready to go, and gets hit into the gum bag. Whenever an Oompa-Loompa pair has got ten gums into the bag, they swap with their companions, and get their own chance to eat a few gums."

Then, as if the idea had only just occurred to him, Willy turned a sharp glance over the gathered children, who were hanging onto his every word by this point.

"So… Would anyone like to try their hand at catching one of the gums?"

Augustus headed the rush onto the trampoline, provoking a chuckle from his mother as he stumbled on the unusual ground, found himself head-butting the trampoline itself, and was then flipped onto his back. The trampoline gave under him, and then flung him a good fifteen feet into the air, with the shock wave tossing the other children almost as high. Veruca got to her feet first, and began running across the trampoline in giant springing steps, easily going ten feet into the air at a time. Reaching the Oompa-Loompa crowd in the centre of the trampoline she glanced up. She wanted some of those gums, but how could she bounce the best to get them? Maybe she could just grab some from one of the other kids. Yes, that might work…

Mike and Violet arrived at the same time; they had bounced across, racing each other as they pretended they were on pogo sticks. When they reached the centre, Mike collapsed in helpless laughter. He hadn't had this much fun in a long time! Maybe he could grab a sample of the gum before they left the room? His Mom had commented that if they were able to pick up some other freebies, they could maybe get something else out of Slugworth. The gum trampoline might be worth having. Violet, meanwhile, was jumping for all she was worth. Drat! She just missed that one! Maybe if she bounced to the left a bit she would be able to grab one.

Charlie was bouncing along cautiously, being content to go just a short way at a time. That was until Augustus came up behind him. The bouncing of the bigger boy would shoot Charlie a good twenty feet every time he bounced. So it happened rather quickly that the two boys reached the centre – even if the rest of the children reached the middle far quicker than they did. Then the real bouncing begun.

It didn't take long for the children to realise that this game was harder than it looked. Augustus was thrilled when, after a good ten minutes worth of bouncing, he was the first to catch a Wine Gum. Veruca scowled in determination. She wanted to get the next one. That Augustus bounced so hard, she was scattered as if she were a skittle every half minute, and that certainly didn't help matters. The bigger boy should really bounce off the trampoline now.

Charlie was having so much fun simply bouncing, or being bounced, around he wasn't overly worried about catching the wine gums. Tiring out he flipped onto his back, content to let the bouncing of the trampoline do the hard work for him. He was rather astonished when one of the wine gums dropped right into his open mouth. One of the Oompa-Loompa's high above waved, as Charlie's mouth dropped further open in astonishment. Really? Violet happened to catch the interaction and giggled. That was one talented Oompa-Loompa!

Mike and Veruca had entered into a race to catch one of the gums by this point, and the two were bouncing for all they were worth. Suddenly Augustus tapped Violet on the shoulder.

"Here!" he stated gruffly, holding his hand towards her. "I found myself grabbing this as I came back down again."

Violet took the offered sweet.

"Thanks Augustus," she responded. "That's very kind of you."

While they were talking, the other two managed to catch a Wine Gum each, and suddenly all the Oompa-Loompa's jumped down onto the trampoline, and formed a bouncing line. Charlie, Augustus, and Violet quickly realised that they were urging the children back towards the gathered parents and began springing their way back across the springy material. Mike and Veruca, however, were less inclined to be so helpful. Eventually Augustus got bored with them, and began bouncing behind them in such a way they were catapulted five feet towards their goal. He had come to realise the impact that his bouncing had on the movements of the others and decided that this might be a way he could help the Oompa-Loompas out. And so, in this fashion, they slowly returned to the adults. A hot, sticky, breathless crew, most of whom were wearing smiles of delight at the unexpected treat.

Charlie was amazed to see that his grandfather seemed to have a handful of the wine gums, and was bouncing around haphazardly with every step. How many of the things had Grandpa Joe eaten? Where had he found them? Following Charlie's glance of confusion, Willy looked at the older man. Had the old man really guzzled down the bowl of Wine Gums he had handed round for the adults to share while they were waiting? It looked like the other adults might have managed to have one or two each. There had been over a hundred sweets in that bowl, enough for the adults to have some, the children to have some, and some for them to take home, and yet, before they could be shared out amongst the group, the bowl was empty.

"Remember to Pace yourself, Grandpa Joe, sir. You don't want to become unwell before the end of the tour," he warned again, sighing at the complete lack of self-discipline the older man showed.

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With my thanks to everyone for reading, and to Linkwonka88 for the comment. I hope that this update has proved enjoyable!

"Mike Teevee" is the version of the surname used by the 1971 film cast list, therefore I shall stick to this version of the name.


	5. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The group received the news that their next destination was the Fudge Mountain Mine with great excitement. Willy smiled to himself as he saw their reactions.

"Conditions on the mountain itself are hazardous, so we won't hazard that environment. The only risks inside the mine, however, are uneven terrain and poor visibility; we shall need to tread carefully when we get there, but shall be perfectly safe otherwise. I thought we might find sampling some of the fudge stalactites and hot chocolate sauce worth the challenges of the environment. This is, after all, a very special treat – something that shall never be sold, but can be eaten freely inside the factory."

Mike, whose mulishness had broken with the fun of Augustus bouncing him across the trampoline, looked around the rest of the group, grin splitting his face. Chocolate sauce didn't interest him much, but the room itself sounded so exciting! Were they really about to enter a mine, in a mountain made entirely of fudge? Mike guessed that they were about to find out. How would they get to the main cavern? On foot would be slow, and might get boring. But there could be different travel plans in place: there had been a lot of walking around the Factory, but they had also travelled by that boat. If there were a different way to travel, this experience could be even more enjoyable than the Trampoline Room had been!

Willy swept them along several long corridors, some the brown of the current rock, through to many others painted antiseptic white or grey, and then onto one a different shade of brown; the now familiar screeching noise continued going off at regular intervals along their route. Some of the noises sounded closer than others, causing Charlie to flinch.

Finally Willy signalled them to stop. The group paused at his command, while he strode quickly across a metal section of floor. The sound of his footsteps echoed around; somehow sounding both nearby and far away at the same time.

"The upper door," Willy stated, gesturing along the corridor, "takes you onto the mountain itself. Down there," Willy gestured to the metal section of ground he had just crossed, "is the entrance to the mine." He opened a cupboard, door flush with the wall, and grasped a lever hiding inside. He pulled the lever back, using his full body weight. At first, nothing seemed to be happening. Then, all at once, the metal floor began to lift up in two sections; each section moving to the side as their hinges allowed, functioning as a trapdoor.

The screech of the trapdoor lifting had the whole group slapping their hands over their ears. They obviously didn't use this entrance that often! Once the floor stopped moving, the two sections lined up against the walls on either side, leaving a gaping cavern; large enough to fit four people, with room to spare. Creeping over to the gaping cavity in the floor, Charlie found himself blinking into darkness.

"Stand back, Charlie my boy!" Charlie looked up at Willy, before taking two large steps back from the edge. Then Willy approached the space himself, sat down on the edge, and twisted his upper body until he could place his hands on the ledge as well. Then, with a practiced thrust of his arms, he swung himself around, before bending his elbows and lowering himself into the hole. Charlie giggled, seeing Mr. Wonka apparently sunk to his waist in the floor.

"Jump down everyone," Willy commanded, crossing the gap to assist the children. In response to this command, each child took their turn sitting on the edge of the hole, as Willy guided their descent. They stepped first onto an entry way, before walking down a ramp onto a wide platform. A huge cart was sat at the side of the platform. Willy helped each child into the cart and directed them on where to sit, allowing room for everyone else to join them. Mike looked around in curiosity while they waited. The trap doors seemed to have a lot of metal tubes connected to them. Was this related to the way they opened perhaps?

Once the children were settled, Mr. Wonka helped the adults down, also instructing them on places to sit, before going to a different section of the large, wooden, contraption; pulling another lever on the wall beside them, to close the trap door again, as he went.

"Isn't that dangerous?" asked Mrs. Teevee, her voice echoing through the dimly lit tunnel.

"Not to worry, dear lady, we shall be exiting by a different route." Willy explained, as he jumped into the cart and began manipulating a few levers at the front. Charlie blinked. Had those levers been there all the time, was he that unobservant?

Willy frowned to himself as he busied himslf about his task. Dangerous? Dangerous would be leaving a gaping hole in the middle of the floor. That was simply asking for an accident! Who knew who might stumble into the space without looking, if it were left unattended while open!? The risk, however minuscule, was simply something Willy would not countenance.

"This is Wonka-Trac, 'trac' being spelled without a 'k.'. You see, the cart goes on the tracks, but 'trac,' is also 'cart,' spelled backwards. It is the only way to travel safely about the mines. There is another version in the Rock Candy Mine, with a few modifications, to make it more suited to that terrain."

The strange contraption was now moving, apparently rushing them away, along old rail tracks. The journey was long and bumpy, rushing down hills, and then slowly powering up steep slopes with the help of a cog railway. Charlie grinned as his eyes adjusted to the gloom; this surely had to be similar to a roller coaster: the shifting shadows, mixing with the rushing wind as they swept by the close tunnel walls, gave a real thrill! It was definitely the closest Charlie was likely to get to experiencing one. Then he looked at his grandfather. Grandpa Joe's face had turned pasty green. Was human skin supposed to turn that colour?

Mike was yelling his excitement, loud enough for the entire Factory to hear. The unintelligible whoops, mixed with laughter, had Charlie laughing in sympathy, even as he slapped his hands over his ears. The echoes made the din even more annoying.

Finally, they reached the end of their journey: a vast cavern sprawled out in front of them. The scent of sugar was heavy in the air. Charlie licked his lips, tasting a hint of the confection. Violet smiled as she saw his startled expression and the way he then ran his tongue over his lips again. Seeing Charlie's reaction had Violet experimentally licking her own lips in turn, smiling in surprise at the thin layer of sugar that covered them. Augustus was quick to put his hand up to his mouth.

"I taste good!" he exclaimed in excitement. Willy smiled at the boy.

"I'm sure that the fudge stalactites and chocolate sauce you can eat in this room taste far better than the sugar on your skin right now, Augustus," he responded.

Looking around the cave, the group spotted many stalactites and stalagmites through the gloom. Those were made out of fudge? They then saw, scattered around the place, several large potholes of what appeared to be hot chocolate sauce, steaming away. The group observed Mr. Wonka as he broke off a little of the fudge, swiped it through a thick, creamy chocolate confection, and placed it in his mouth, smile of bliss blossoming on his face at the flavour. As Willy opened his eyes again, he realised they were all watching him.

"Well, on you go. Each of the puddles has a different filling, from white chocolate, to dark chocolate, to caramel, or even treacle toffee sauce. There are enough different flavours to suit all tastes," he stated, shoeing them all off, but not before skewering Joe with a glance like a lancet. "Grandpa Joe, I ask you, once again, to pace yourself. There is plenty of candy to eat here. It's not going to be snatched away from you. If you take your time you shall enjoy it more than if you guzzle it that quickly. Slow down, sir."

Glancing around, Charlie saw Veruca eyeing Augustus with a nasty expression on her face. That girl really did not like Augustus. Charlie quickly decided that it would be best to stick close to the larger boy. Augustus found a good place to sit, occasionally moving over to snap the bottom off another stalactite, breaking it down into little bits, which he then shared with Charlie, who had sat down beside him. While Augustus chomped his way through two thirds of the confection, smeared with the thick chocolate, Charlie passed many pieces on to Violet and Mike, only savouring the occasional chunk himself. The dark chocolate puddle in front of him was amazing.

Veruca had turned her nose up at the candy, she simply wasn't interested in it right now. This was boring!

Mike had complained to Mr. Wonka that he wasn't as fond of chocolate as all that, and had soon been directed to a large hot toffee puddle instead. This brought a big smile to Mike's face, and he was content to have his share of that. He occasionally passed fudge laden with toffee sauce to the other three children, so they could also enjoy his treat of choice.

There was something about the cave that seemed to make each of the children long to see how the others reacted to the things they enjoyed. For the brief space of time they were in the dark cavern, a camaraderie sprang up between the four who partook of the treat. Something in Willy relaxed as he saw this. If there was a limit to his imagination, this hit close to the boundaries. Would one of these children be a good fit, while the others became welcome visitors? It was a possibility, perhaps, but there was still time before he needed to make that decision. In the meantime, Willy was heartily glad for the spell that this area seemed to have cast on the group. It was a pity that Veruca wasn't willing to participate, but...

The adults were all heartily enjoying the snacks as well. They stuck fairly close to their offspring, all except for Grandpa Joe, who ran all over the cavern; stuffing his face with the contents of every puddle he could find, alongside his own mountain of fudge.

The other adults all had a fair share as well: with Mr. Salt eating enough for his Veruca as well as himself. Meanwhile, Mrs. Teevee surreptitiously slipped some of the fudge into her handkerchief, which she then returned to her handbag. She had purloined a few samples of the Wine Gums as well, just in case. She wasn't that fond of sugar, but tasting the offerings made a wonderful way to obtain samples. The candy on offer in this location was also delicious enough that it wasn't a sacrifice to try it either. She smiled to herself. Surely Slugworth would make it well worth her while doing this!

Willy raised his eyebrow as he spotted her actions. Then he shrugged. She was welcome to try and find Slugworth; the man was unlikely to be interested in her finds: he could purchase both the Wine Gums and Fudge from any candy store. And even if the man thought something stolen from the Factory might be worth more, the man knew that the procedures were patented. Mrs. Teevee's time would be better spent simply eating the candy; not that she knew that of course.

After a few more minutes, Willy looked around and noticed the way that Grandpa Joe was going through the contents of the white chocolate puddle in front of him. Quickly making his way forwards, Willy began to caution the other man again.

"Is that what you call pacing yourself, Grandpa Joe? You really don't want to make yourself… Too Late!" Willy threw his hands in the air in frustration, before going to the cave's intercom system: whistles being no good down in the mine.

"Clean up team to the Fudge Mountain Mine pronto! Stomach Emptying Incident." He stated, before herding his group back to the cart.

Mike was patting his stomach in a satisfied manner.

"That was good," he admitted with a small smile. "I couldn't eat another bite. Is it sleep time now?"

Willy smiled at the boy.

"Not yet Mike, we have so much time and so little to do… Strike that, reverse it." The children giggled at his turn of phrase, before everyone took their turn climbing back into the Wonka-trac: with Mr. Beauregard, and Mr. Salt helping Charlie's Grandfather in once everyone else was settled.

Just as they were about to depart, Charlie thought he caught an Oompa-Loompa voice.

"He's greedy! He must have emptied that pool of chocolate, and denuded the area of stalactites, but hasn't thought to make sure his grandson got more than a few tastes!" The sound of accent from the rest of the party also echoed in his ears, as the Oompa-Loompas wondered amongst themselves what they might have to deal with in future, if Willy did invite one of these families into the Factory.

Then the cart moved off. The route this time was all downhill, with only one or two steep curves. Then they zoomed through the mouth of the cave, into another brown painted corridor, the gentle slope, mixed with a gradual turn bringing them to a stop as they found the 'rocks' hanging close above their heads giving way to the far higher ceiling of the corridor.

Gasps of amazement broke forth as the group suddenly realised that they had exited the cave via a small hole in the wall. Seeing Willy jump out of the cart, the rest of the group disembarked as best they could. Better not to keep this guy waiting.

"And that, Children, is the Fudge Mountain Mine. I do hope you enjoyed seeing it." Willy concluded, eyes sweeping over the group. Yes, time for everyone to freshen up, that was certain. He gestured along the corridor, to an area where two grey doors hung side by side.

"In there, you shall find washing facilities, and the opportunity to freshen up." Willy's gaze wandered pointedly over Grandpa Joe's rather crumpled appearance, "I suggest you take it."

A quick confab amongst the parents arranged that Mrs. Teevee and Mrs. Gloop would make sure that the two girls were adequately turned out, if Mr. Beauregard and Mr. Salt would attend to their boys.

Five minutes later, Willy found the first of the group returning to him. Charlie had washed his hands and face, brushed his hair and tucked his shirt into his trousers. He carried his pullover with him as it was warm enough he didn't need to wear it at that moment. It took another few minutes for the rest of the children to join them, followed by their attendant adults. Both girls had clearly had their hair brushed back into a gleaming, well behaved, form. The boys' hair was neat, and their faces were finally clean of the messy substance that had covered them.

Upon exiting, Mrs. Gloop, who had asked Mrs. Teevee to accompany the girls outside while she, Mrs. Gloop, freshened up a little more herself, was fulsome in her thanks that Mr. Wonka supplied his bathrooms with a wonderful anti-tangle spray. it had made all the difference when it came to tidying the girls hair. She had dreaded to think how easily any brush would get through all that sugar, but afrer using the spray it had dissolved into nothing. Willy smirked to himself, even as he accepted her thanks. With his own thick thatch of longer hair, he felt rightfully proud when he came up wih this spray. It made life so much simpler. Charlie's grandfather was still absent during this conversation, but he followed the others out as it came to a close. He seemed to be okay, beyond looking rather green around the gills.

When they were all gathered together, Willy swept the group in front of him.

"I have something interesting for us to look at now. Consider this conundrum. Figure out the reason for the name. "Square Candies that Look Round."

Charlie frowned as he repeated that name. Square Candies that Look Round? What on earth might that be getting at? How could something be both square and round at the same time? Looking round the group, Charlie caught several confused glances. No one else seemed to have the least clue what Mr. Wonka was talking about either then.

The corridors being narrow, the group lengthened out until they were almost walking in form. As they walked, Charlie caught snippets of a conversation between Mike and his mother. Mike's voice, commenting about how nice Mr. Wonka was being and how wonderful the candy treats had been, drew Charlie's attention first. Charlie couldn't help but agree. His blood ran cold, however, when he heard the fiercely muttered response.

"Just keep your eyes open, and your mouth shut!" what was the woman on about? Glancing round, Charlie realised that Mike's response to this instruction was noticeable in the sudden loss of the cheerful smile. The boy Charlie had been starting to consider a friend was replaced by an arrogant, aloof child who was so standoffish that Charlie was hesitant to approach him. This child seemed more like a male Veruca, than anything else.

Charlie shook his head sadly, and returned his attention to where he was going. He would have to keep his eye on the pair, and report to Mr. Wonka the first moment he had the chance. Mrs. Teevee might not make much sense, but she could still cause the Factory a lot of trouble.

This time, it only took a few minutes to get to their next destination. Just two more of the brown corridors, and another in the utilitarian grey. Then Willy stopped, and gestured to yet another door.

Charlie stopped, and considered it. The door reminded Charlie of the one which closed off the school office. There was a pane of glass in the middle of it. Inside it looked rather more like a museum, with many glass display cabinets. Willy opened the door, finger of his spare hand pressed to his lips. They all tiptoed in. Suddenly a flash of movement caught Charlie's eye and he ran to the nearest display cabinet. Lined up upon many shelves inside, were lots of little white cubes, with tiny faces painted on them. As Charlie got closer to them, everyone saw the little objects twist and turn as the boy changed his course slightly.

"They're looking straight towards the sound!" Charlie exclaimed. "That's why you said to be quiet!" Of course, as his voice rang out, even more of the little faces turned towards the boy. Charlie, feeling the weight of the tiny eyes, began backing away.

Willy smiled at the children.

"I think it's probably the vibrations they are reacting to, rather than actual sound. Try splitting up and wandering round the cabinets! Let's see how many different directions we can get them moving in at once!" The children giggled at the idea, and wandered off between the cabinets, stifling still more giggles as they saw the candies looking round at them as they moved between the units, and then spinning in another direction as someone else took an incautious step.

This was a rather small room though, and while it was amusing seeing the little faces turning round at first, the large group soon became bored; before long, one by one, they wandered back towards the door. Within twenty minutes the entire group were gathered back at the entrance to the room, ready for Wonka to shoe them on towards their next destination. Willy smiled to himself wistfully, wishing they could have spent longer in the area. This room was one of his personal favourites. Unfortunately, with so many people there wasn't really enough space to enjoy the game properly.

* * *

My thanks, once again, to everyone who has read, favourited, followed, or reviewed this. Especially to Turrislucidus, for the many reviews. Your thoughts, as always are greatly appreciated. You are, of course, accurate in the missing 'warts and all' of the boat ride. I do find myself wondering, would you really want to taste Augustus Gloop flavoured hot chocolate, which is no longer suitable to sell? I might prefer to miss out on that treat!

Thanks for the interesting idea Verucabeyotch. I don't have any plans for such at present. I'm not sure how such an alternative set of affairs would fit - the characters are so different!

Linkwonka88, I hope you enjoyed the progression with Grandpa Joe!

Luiz4200... I know! Isn't it sad! Even if they got to sing some of them, the progression would be completely lost!

RustieIron and AlchemyWriter: I hope that the latest chapter lives up to what has gone before for you!


	6. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Their next stop was the Fizzy Lifting Drinks Room. It took them just short of half the time they had spent in the Square Candies that Look Round Room to travel between the two. Violet smiled to herself as she realised she had had more exercise inside the Factory than she had had in the entire preceding month.

When they arrived, Mr. Wonka swept them around the strange room once, giving them time to see all the bubbles floating around the room. Charlie grinned to himself as he watched Veruca unbend enough to pop a few of the bubbles. She frowned, as she focused on each one, before jabbing an arm out momentarily. It was almost like watching a predator stalk and attack its prey: vicious, yet controlled, maybe she would use up some of her bad temper with the exercise.

There was also a funny circular structure, which bore a passing resemblance to a large metallic flower, occupying the centre of the room. Looking up, they could see a cylindrical tower, seemingly guarded by a large metal grill. Augustus couldn't help but wonder how tall the tower was: he was to be left wondering.

After a few moments of silence, Mr. Wonka started pontificating about bubbles being everywhere, before disappointing everyone by informing them that there was 'not a drop to drink — yet!' After a dismayed sigh, Violet smiled to herself, before skipping out of the room, pondering what disaster might befall anyone who tasted that drink. Knowing Mr. Wonka, it would be unexpected!

Willy smirked as he saw the interested glances of longing the oldest tour member gave to the Fizzy Lifting Drinks; what would happen here? Willy swept everyone beyond Charlie and his Grandfather from the room before pausing, waiting to hear what would happen.

Joe glanced towards the empty doorway.

"Come on Charlie! Now's our chance! Let's have some of the Fizzy Lifting Drink!"

Charlie looked at him in surprise.

"But Mr. Wonka said not to, Grandpa! You know it's always dangerous to do things he has said not to do!"

Joe looked at him with a grin.

"I'm sure that Mr. Wonka is being overly cautious, Charlie. I sampled many things he didn't put on public offer, and nothing happened to me."

Charlie rolled his eyes.

"You mean that you ate so much candy you puked, Grandpa Joe. And Mr. Wonka trusts us. Do you really want to let him down like that?"

"But Charlie! I'm sure that something to drink will fix me right up! Maybe the Fizzy Lifting Drink is exactly what I need!" Joe wheedled, trying to work on his grandson's compassion.

Charlie rolled his eyes again.

"I am sure juice that is fizzy enough to fill the room with bubbles will be a great help, Grandpa. That is, if you want to spew again!" he huffed in frustration. "Maybe you deserve to feel unwell for a little longer! Maybe it will teach you to actually savour what you are eating! I never thought you would have so little restraint, Grandpa Joe. I would have loved to take something home to everyone else, but there is no point even trying, given the way you guzzle everything in sight!"

Seeing his Grandfather's face twist into a scowl, Charlie hurried on with a more conciliatory tone, hoping to appease that anger before it rose too high. "Even if the Fizzy Lifting Drink would help with how queasy you are feeling, Mr. Wonka said that he didn't want us to drink it. I don't want to let him down by disobeying like that. We don't even know what will happen if we have some of that stuff. Let's just leave and go see what everyone else is up to."

A moment later, just as Joe was getting ready to try again, Violet returned to join them.

"You two okay?" she asked.

Charlie smiled at her. "Hi Violet, yep, I'm just trying to get Grandpa Joe to come out of the room. He wants to try some of the Fizzy Lifting Drink."

Violet frowned. An adult acting badly was a problem beyond her experience. "But Mr. Bucket! You know what might have happened to me if I had tried the gum. Do you really want to risk it?" she asked.

The problem was, it seemed that Grandpa Joe did.

"Wouldn't it be great to be one of the first people to experience some of the side-effects that Mr. Wonka has been talking about? Just think about it, Violet! Fizzy Lifting Drink! It has to make you float!"

Violet frowned. She could understand the appeal, but the drink mustn't work right yet. There had to be some reason why Mr. Wonka hadn't let them try it.

Charlie tried again. "Grandpa, you know that the only reason I'm able to come on the tour is because you are here: Mr Wonka said so in the entrance hall. What happens to me if you aren't able to remain with us?

"Let's go see what everyone else is up to, so we can experience the rest of the tour. That's far better than having to leave part way through!"

As Joe was grunting in ill humour, Willy stuck his head around the door. "Coming Charlie, Grandpa Joe, sir?" he asked, walking around the room to come up behind them, sweeping his arms out in a gesture to invite them to exit. Seeing that Mr. wonka was taking care of the situation, Violet slipped out. She clearly wasn't needed here any longer.

Grandpa Joe looked especially disgruntled, but with this last encouragement he did join everyone else, a moue of disgust on his face. Charlie looked up as he felt Willy's hand land on his back, and smiled up at the chocolatier with growing affection.

"This place is amazing, Mr. Wonka. Thanks for letting us come," he said.

Willy smiled down at the joy filled face.

"Any time, Charlie," he responded. The boy froze. Had Mr. Wonka said what Charlie thought he had?

"Really?" Charlie asked in surprise, expecting the man to retract the suggestion.

The Factory Owner simply squeezed the boy's shoulder.

"If you behave as well as you have done today, Charlie, then yes, really. You're welcome to come back at any time." Then, as the boy's delighted grin grew even bigger, Willy pulled them back to the present. "For now, however, let's return to the tour." Charlie swiftly agreed, before taking a moment to whisper his concern about Mrs. Teevee to Willy.

"There's something up with Mike, and his mother," Charlie noted. "Mike was friendly as we left the mine, but Mrs. Teevee said something to him as we walked along the corridor, and he froze right up. I don't trust them."

Willy smiled back at the boy. "I am aware of the situation, and am currently unconcerned about it. Thank you for bringing it to my attention though; I shall continue to monitor them.

"Now, shall we join the others?"

With a smile of aquiescence, Charlie agreed. A moment later they exited the room, to see everyone else milling around, waiting on them.

"Ah, my apologies everyone, I got caught up there," Willy explained, "shall we press on?" He turned and led them along a corridor to their next destination.

Joe Bucket's behaviour was concerning. He had been brought along to be a guiding hand to his grandson, to make sure that Charlie didn't misbehave. And yet, it seemed as if Charlie knew how to behave better than his grandfather did. Normally, Willy wouldn't have interfered, it being up to the adult to keep the child in line. It wasn't up to Charlie to keep his grandfather in line, though. The boy had given a good attempt, and clearly had no interest in being led astray, but his opinions were not enough to sway his Grandfather from his wish to behave inappropriately.

If Charlie were to be offered the apprenticeship, steps would have to be taken to protect the Factory from Joe. This was a poser. What to do when faced with a child that might be a wonderful fit for the Factory, who brought along an adult who was anything but? Willy would have to consider the question as the tour progressed. This could be a real wrench in the works.

The next room was just as strange as the last. Five gigantic geese took up one end of the room. The geese were sat on strange plastic nests and laid giant, gold colored chocolate eggs. Once laid, the eggs would drop gently out of the nest and roll down a series of chutes, until they sat on something called an 'eggdicator.' Each goose had its own Eggdicator, which determined whether they were good or bad eggs. Good eggs were collected by an Oompa-Loompa, polished, and wrapped in brightly colored cellophane; generally being made ready to be shipped out to the shops and sold. Bad eggs went down the garbage chute.

Directly in front of the eggdicators stood two tables where several of the Oompa-Loompas sat, carrying out their tasks.

The area that the tour group found themselves was on a higher level. Three steps led down to the Oompa-Loompa work stations, with curving white walls surrounding either side, screening off the tour group's view of anything else that might be happening. Piled around the group were several stacks of gaily wrapped boxes, and hanging baskets full of small decorations.

It was here that Mount Veruca erupted. She began by demanding one of the geese. When Mr. Wonka refused to sell one to her father, she threw the biggest temper tantrum that Violet, and many of the others, had seen in a long time.

As Veruca began to rant about everything she wanted "right now," Violet turned to Willy, a pleading look on her face. "Please, Mr. Wonka, tell her to stop. Her shrieking is driving me demented, but she'll stop if you say so," she concluded, ignoring the fact she had just insulted Veruca's father, who was simply watching as his daugter tore from one end of the room to the other, batting baskets of decorations out of her way, toppling stacks of colorful boxes, and generally transforming the previously organized room into multicolored chaos. Willy blinked, eyes feeling suspiciously wet at the trust implied by Violet's comment.

"I am honored by the trust that you place in my ability to make an impact on this child when her father quite clearly cannot. Think for a moment though: whose responsibility is it to discipline the child? The adult who was invited to join them specifically for the purpose of disciplining them, or the person leading the tour who has many other responsibilities? That the adults who are responsible for disciplining their children do not take the trouble to do so, when those children disobey, does not make this the responsibility of the tour guide. The tour guide is only responsible for giving the rules. Which, you will clearly recall, I did at the start of the tour."

Violet bit her tongue, remembering just how disguised those instructions had been, and the limited amount of time they had been given to read them. The other consideration was that Mr. Wonka had told her not to eat the gum when she had been about to do so. So he did explain when something that was normally okay would not be so in this instance. As everyone should know that it was childish to behave in the way Veruca was currently behaving, it wasn't up to Mr Wonka to tell her to act her age.

Mr. Salt had turned a look of fury onto Willy, but before he could act upon his obvious disgust at the slur against both his princess and his parenting, Mrs. Gloop jumped into the fray.

"But she has no manners whatsoever. No little girl that I know would throw themselves about in this disgusting fashion, they would be horrified to be so lacking in decorum. Were a child of mine to behave in this fashion, I would be taking them home. Her comportment would shame a five year old!"

These words brought a different flush to Mr. Salt's face.

"Veruca!" he bellowed. The shock of hearing her father's voice raised in anger brought the girl to a standstill. She backed away at the look on his face, something bringing her to the realization that he was serious this time. "You are disgracing yourself, and Salt's Nuts, Princess. When you were three you couldn't control yourself and such behaviour was acceptable. Now, you are well able to control yourself and I shall not accept you behaving in such a way anymore. Now, apologize to Mr. Wonka, or we shall go home."

The direness of the threat brought the girl up short again. She hated apologizing. She never had to do so. And now her father said that if she didn't they were going home. She couldn't let that happen, however much she didn't want to apologize.

She looked down at the ground and muttered a few words. Willy glared at her.

"I'm a little deaf in one ear, little girl, you need to speak a little louder."

"I said I'm sorry," she told him, looking up, fury blazing in her eyes at being treated with such indignity, furious also at the biting tone of this additional rebuke.

"Well, your father is correct, in that if you hadn't begun to comport yourself with a little more dignity you would have been expelled from the tour. Despite your rather lacklustre apology, I shall indeed let you off of that consequence.

"However," the tone sharpened, the words scathing, "it is not the job of my Oompa-Loompas to tidy up behind impudent hoydens with delusions of grandeur. Therefore, before we go a step further, you are going to set this room to rights again."

Veruca stamped her foot. "I don't want to."

Willy ignored her behaviour and instead turned his attention to buffing his finger nails, with a buffer he pulled out of a pocket. The tour was going nowhere until he showed them where they were going to go, after all. If Veruca tried to run off on her own, well, the Oompa-Loompas were primed that they could close the doors, and block off any escape routes. That precaution had been decided upon long before the public knew anything about a tour. There was no way anyone was going to have any leeway to slip off of the designated tour route on _this_ tour.

Veruca paused, looked at Willy, looked at her father, and stood quietly. After a few moments, Willy glanced around the group of bored looking children and adults, choosing to ignore Mr. Salt, who stood with a face like thunder: who did this cocksure candyman think he was, talking to Salt of Salt's Nuts precious daughter like that?

"Well then, there is no point in everyone continuing to stand around like this until Veruca deigns to do as I ask. Therefore, if the rest of the group would walk this way, please."

The group moved, with hesitant steps, down the stairs and around the walled area, to sit at some more tables, hidden from the view of Veruca and her father: meanwhile, Mr. Salt and his daughter were left standing in the middle of the floor.

After a few minutes, however, sitting doing nothing at the table got boring. Augustus approached their host, who was standing a short distance from their table.

"Mr. Wonka?" the man looked around from where he had been observing Veruca. "Would it be alright if some of us helped Veruca?" the boy enquired.

"Did you make the mess, Augustus?"

Augustus cocked his head. What was the enigmatic man getting at? He knew Augustus hadn't made the mess. Maybe the best thing to do was to answer the question.

"No, Mr. Wonka, Sir."

The response gained Augustus a smile. "Then what do you learn by doing the job? And what does Veruca learn if she doesn't?" He glanced towards the girl, who was still standing in the middle of the floor, waiting for something to change.

Augustus paused, considering the answer. Then he nodded his head. "Thank you Mr. Wonka." With that, the boy returned to his seat.

By this stage, the other children were starting to get restive.

"Is there nothing more interesting we can be doing, Mr. Wonka, sir?" asked Mike.

Then Augustus chipped in again, "Maybe you have something we could eat?" he enquired, hopefully.

Willy fixed him with a gimlet eye. "There will be some sweets for eating, soon after we reach our next destination. However, we go nowhere until Veruca does as she has been asked.

"Since she is obviously determined to ignore me, it probably needs her father to have her do as requested." Willy looked around the restive group, "Any complaints should therefore be addressed to the Salts."

Mrs. Gloop, who was forming herself into Willy's ally, stood up and fixed her glare upon Mr. Salt "I should have pulled mine home, by his ear, were he behaving like this!"

As Mr. Salt turned a glare of thunder upon her, Mr. Beauregarde took his turn.

"Uh, buddy, maybe things would move more swiftly if Veruca tidied some of the mess up. She doesn't have to do all of it, but if she does some, maybe the rest of us could help a bit?"

Finding this compromise more acceptable, Mr. Salt turned to his daughter.

"Come on then, Veruca, if we do some of the work, the others will help out a bit. Then we can get out of this boring hole with those ridiculous birds."

That was until Willy put a stop to this behaviour.

"Anyone who does the chore for Veruca undermines my authority, and I shall not have that. Desist immediately, or it won't just be Veruca who runs perilously close to being expelled from the tour. She and anyone who 'helps' shall be out."

Not wanting to have it known that his daughter had been ejected from the Factory for bad behaviour, Mr. Salt tried again.

"Veruca, sweetheart, you want to stay in the tour and get to see some more of the Factory, don't you? Come on, princess, it's not going to take much to get it tidied up. I shall get you that necklace you were asking for yesterday. And we shall return for a further week exploring Broadway before we get the flight home."

Willy rolled his eyes at the bribery, even as Veruca finally did as she was told, with a very grumpy look on her face. Charlie looked torn as he glanced towards Mr. Wonka. Charlie knew that the man didn't want him helping Veruca to clear up, Mr. Wonka wanted Veruca to do it. It was her punishment, and so Mr. Wonka wanted her to do it. Not Charlie, not Violet, not Augustus, or Mike, not their parents, and not the Oompa-Loompas.

Glancing at the last group, steadfastly continuing with their own tasks, Charlie sighed. Much as he felt as though he should be helping Veruca, he had already been told not to. He had been given the task of sitting down and waiting. So Charlie sat back down again — when had he stood up anyway?

The fact the other children were also sitting made him feel a little more comfortable, and Mr. Wonka's comments about undermining his authority within the Factory also helped. There was no way Charlie wanted to be expelled from the tour for clearing up a mess he didn't make.

He still found sitting there waiting difficult, though. He was simply too used to being the one who had to step in and help out at home. With four bed-bound grandparents, and a mother who spent almost every hour of the day at work, if Charlie didn't see to the various jobs they wouldn't get done, and Charlie was the one who suffered for that lack. Gritting his teeth at this thought, Charlie buried his head in his hands; maybe he would be able to forget what was happening beyond his line of sight.

After a few minutes he felt a hand on his shoulder. Charlie looked up to see Mr. Wonka directing a sympathetic smile towards him. The hand withdrew. Somehow, despite how wrong it felt, Charlie knew he was doing the right thing.

Finally, the clear up was completed. As everyone glanced around the now mostly restored room, Willy looked up.

"Aaah! All tidy now then? Excellent. Adelantar, mis amigos." No one moved, and he looked around. The mystified air of his companions struck him, and he smoothly transitioned into English, "that is, forward, my friends."

As they departed the area, Charlie cocked his head in wonder. Had he really just caught the word 'brat' from a voice somewhere behind them? He shrugged his shoulders. There were so many strange sounds here, it was hard to know for sure.

* * *

My thanks to everyone for reading, following, favouriting, and, of course, commenting, especially to those who have said that they like the quality of what I am posting; the acknowledgement makes the hours I spend rewording, and editing for grammar and sense, worth it. This chapter didn't take that long to sort, and was still read over, and changed, well over ten times before being passed as suitable for posting.

My thanks are also due to my American friend who let me know that in America, Charlie would never consider wearing a jumper... while in the UK a jumper is essentially a pullover, it turns out that this is not the case in America. My apologies for suggesting that Charlie might be wearing a dress... It seems that even with plenty of time spent trying to get things right, and taking the time to ask about some of the terminology, mistakes still creep in.

Those of you with sharp eyes, or good memories, will note that I have edited the layout of the geese room slightly. I guess that this is a case of 'Warts and All' with a nod to being AU. The new shape fits far better with the plot I have created.

Luiz4200: interesting point on Grandpa Joe. In the film, his morals don't seem that good either. When Charlie comes home with the loaf of bread, Joe isn't concerned that Charlie has just been accused of stealing. If he was concerned about that, he could have pointed out that Charlie would never steal. Instead, Joe proclaims that stealing doesn't matter. All that does matter is that they now have bread. Makes it easier to understand why Grandpa Joe was the one to encourage Charlie to try the Fizzy Lifting Drinks. The man is not to be trusted. I find it sad, as I want to like the man. I want to write stories with a nice, encouraging, morally sound grandfather. Unfortunately for me, if I want to keep him in character, the source material won't let me do that. If I want Grandpa Joe to be nice, I need to clearly mark it as AU, for a nice Grandpa Joe...

Turrislucidus: I think that the time compression element is one of my biggest objections to both films: especially 1971. Why spend over half the film over finding the tickets, and then compress the tour into almost nothing. I hardly feel like they spend more than an hour in the Factory. I certainly wouldn't bother to travel all the way from Europe, to America, for an event that would be over so quickly. Maybe it would be different if I also had friends over there, but I doubt you can say that for Veruca...

Wilder Wonka: I hope that Veruca's section felt in character to you. Yes, she did as she was told, eventually. She didn't go down the garbage chute either, but you cannot say much more for her.


	7. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Before ushering the group through yet another door, Willy sighed, and put the difficult situation just navigated out of his mind. This time the group traversed many corridors, hounded by the sound of many alarms. Charlie, finally finding himself next to Mr. Wonka, found himself driven to enquire: "Mr. Wonka? What's that awful wailing sound? I've heard it almost every time we've changed rooms."

Willy looked at him, eyebrow raised. "That, Charlie, is the noise made by my sound-proof, fire-doors. It warns the Oompa-Loompas that heavy machinery is operating, letting them know that they don't want to remain in the vicinity. The last thing you want is to find yourself squashed by a heavy fire-door." Willy pointed towards the ceiling. "Do you see up there?"

Charlie looked up above his head, realizing for the first time that the ceiling seemed to shine, and that the iridescent, colorful patterns he could see on the ground were mirrored there. It was almost like the ceiling had a mix of oil and water on it: it was a strange, but somehow beautiful, effect. Before continuing, Willy paused until he was convinced that Charlie, and the others who had gathered round them to listen, knew what he was talking about.

"The doors are stored up above our heads. They are made from tempered glass, ultra strong, ultra safe to use. And, as you can see from the glittering, cut-crystal appearance of the ceiling, these doors possess a delightful aesthetic quality. They perform the dual functions of absorbing noise and keeping heat in … Or out, as the case may be."

Then, as the group looked at him in confusion, Willy sighed, and explained further. "The doors act as fire-doors in the first instance. If we didn't use them regularly, we would need to check them anyway, to make sure they still worked.

"If a fire were to break out, the Oompa-Loompas would have a few minutes to drop everything, hit the emergency stop buttons on all machinery, and get out of the vicinity before the fire-doors closed.

"Once the doors slam into place, it is only those who are specially trained, with the proper equipment, who can get through those doors to fight the fire. That is the main purpose of the doors.

"However, their job is also to keep heat in, and cold out. That means that we don't have to heat the whole Factory to the temperature preferred by the Oompa-Loompas, all of the time. When a door lowers, the sensors make sure that the next area is warm enough for the Oompa-Loompas, and if not, before the doors move, we remedy this oversight with heat produced in other areas of the Factory. Our production systems create so much heat, that we find this very cost effective.

"The third use we have for the doors is as a way of breaking down the maze. We are using them in this way today. I left some of the Oompa-Loompas with special instructions regarding what the tour route would be. I am wearing a sensor which tells them exactly where I am in the Factory, and they are operating the doors to help make sure that no one gets lost along the way. Without, I might add, impeding the work of the Factory while so doing.

"Now, moving along…"

Mr. Wonka turned, and swept the group on ahead of him, pointing clearly in the direction he wanted them to go. They traversed a total of twelve corridors—Violet was counting loudly enough that the entire group could hear her—including three which took them so far below ground that the only source of light came from strip-lighting.

"We go through tunnel!" Augustus suddenly commented, as they reached the bottom of a long incline.

Veruca looked at him, still feeling slightly sulky after having to tidy up the Golden Eggs Room, and rolled her eyes, before relaxing and commenting: "Oh! You're right! We drove through a long one on the way over here. The lights look just like the ones inside that tunnel!"

Mike looked at her. "You drove all the way from England?" he queried.

Veruca huffed. "Don't be more of an idiot than you can help!" the irascible girl retorted. "We flew to JFK Airport, spent a week in New York, and then Daddy hired a limousine and driver to bring us here. Leaving New York, we went through the Lincoln Tunnel. There were times I wondered if I would ever see daylight again, it was that long!"

Violet smiled at her. "We drove a lot of the way too, but it sounds like you had more fun. My Dad wanted to take the chance to do some business on the way, so he drove. It was boring."

With commiserating groans from those children who knew what long car journeys could be like, and a glance of wonder from Charlie, the subject was dropped.

After two more corridors, and two more turns, the group meandered to a halt. When Violet looked around, she realized that they had come to a stop outside a room that had red, plastic covered foam pillars on either side of the door. The door itself seemed to be a thick, blue crash mat.

"This is the Marshmallow Ball Pit Room. Now, before we go in here, a few words of warning. The barrier around the big ball pit in the middle, where you will see the Oompa-Loompas, is not to be passed. Indeed, the Oompa-Loompas will make sure you don't get close enough to touch the marshmallows. You shall see that they have tongs, which they use to transfer the balls. Those balls will be wrapped in cellophane, and sold individually. At the far end of that ball pit, you will see there are two large piping tubes, through which the hot marshmallow is blown. The Oompa-Loompas in charge of the piping tubes only let through enough of the mixture for each ball to pass through the tube before cutting off the flow. The hot material then rolls into a cold holding tank, where the material solidifies. We keep them moving to retain the spherical shape. We have a success rate of ten to one. Rejected balls are put over to the two side pits, where you are free to run, play, and eat as much as you would like."

With those instructions given, Willy backed away from the door, leaving the group looking at him in confusion.

"Watch, and then copy me!" he instructed, before running straight at the door. At the last moment he sprung towards the top of the blue door. It bent back underneath him, and he did a forwards roll, coming to land upon his feet, before the door sprung up into place. Charlie suddenly realized where Mr. Wonka got his skills in the forward roll department!

Augustus soon followed, doing a belly-flop onto the mat. Mrs. Gloop, and Mrs. Teevee both took advantage of him flattening the door to walk over it. Mrs. Gloop then helped the two girls over the mat. Unfortunately, they were so busy concentrating on the girls, that they didn't notice that there was no one sitting on the mat until it was too late.

"Mike!" Mrs. Teevee called out, as she realized her son was trapped on the other side of the door to her.

Charlie glanced around at those who were still to enter the room. Mike was stood next to Mr. Beauregarde, who was scowling at the door, and muttering about not wanting to ruin his good suit. Charlie's Grandpa Joe was still looking rather green: jumping over the door was the last thing he wanted to do. Meanwhile, Mr. Salt had bellowed: "Veruca!" and was stampeding at the door like a rampaging bull, arms rotating like windmills as he went. As Mr. Salt banged into the door, it gave way beneath his weight, and he landed, spreadeagled, on top of it. Mr. Beauregarde immediately ran over it, to join Violet, while Charlie and Mike both sat down on the door.

"This way Grandpa," Charlie called. His grandfather slowly ambled over towards him. "Slide across the mat now, while Mr. Salt is holding it flat." Charlie stood up, cautiously, and let his grandfather slide on in his place. By this time, Mr. Beauregarde and Mike had both managed to enter the room. Charlie stood, so busy watching his Grandfather being helped into the room, he never noticed Mr. Salt also crawling off the end of the door. Charlie was therefore surprised when he looked back at the door to see it springing into place again.

Sighing and shaking his head at himself, Charlie backed up, as he had seen Mr. Wonka doing. Then he took a good run at the door, before leaping at the foam barrier, pulling his arms forward to hit the object first. Meeting two hands, and a foot, the soft stuff sprang back beneath his weight and he found himself landing on the crash-mat, in a heap. After taking a moment to orient himself, Charlie smiled at the group, and skittered over to join them.

"So, are we going to explore those ball pits, or what?" he enquired.

The door sprang back into place. The crowd surrounding him turned into a sea of grins, all except for his grandfather, who looked even greener at the idea and went to sit down on one of the square, blue, plastic-covered foam bumper benches. The rest of the group split up, with Augustus, Mike, and Mr. Salt all heading into one of the rejected marshmallow ball pools. Charlie found himself struggling not to laugh as the man, in his expensive business suit, ended up sat covered in marshmallow balls, and immediately stuck one in his mouth. It looked like the man was eating a pink, spongey apple. Roast hog, anyone? Charlie thought to himself. The man _was_ rather pig-like.

Mike was practicing swimming in the rejected balls, and Augustus took one look at Mr. Salt before smiling and emulating him. He paused for a moment as the mallow began to melt in his mouth, and then began to chomp his way through the ball as fast as he could go, grabbing another with his spare hand, so as to start on his next ball as soon as possible.

Mike, seeing how much the other two were enjoying the marshmallow, grabbed one of the nearest, slightly misshapen balls, and pulled a bit off. Putting the bite-sized chunk into his mouth, a beatific smile erupted on his face as the flavor of the ball hit him. These sweets were well worth eating! Grandpa Joe, spotting that reaction in his turn, scowled. He so wanted to be able to enjoy the treats as well, but having stuffed himself to the point of being sick already, the idea of putting anything else in his mouth was nauseating.

Charlie had started by moving over behind the barriers at the big, central ball pit: the one they were not allowed to enter. The barrier stood a good three feet from the pit itself, but it still provided a good view of what was happening. Charlie watched the working Oompa-Loompas with fascination, noting the tongs they were picking the balls up with, and seeing how they carefully wrapped the balls. Charlie then began to walk along the side of the ball pit, taking care to stay on the side of the barrier that would ensure he wouldn't fall in. Looking over the side, he followed several of the balls as they were blown out of the hot liquid, and then were rolled on the cold surface, to form a ball of marshmallow. The end result was a ball so big, Charlie was unsure if he could comfortably hold it in one hand. It seemed to be around the size of the softballs some of the older pupils used in the playground during lunch break.

Seeing each ball completed, and then roll down the slide to where the Oompa-Loompas were waiting with their tongs, fascinated Charlie. Mr. Beauregarde joined him for a couple of minutes, before wandering round to the same ball pit Mr. Salt was in. Finding a part which was clear of other occupants, he turned round, and let himself fall backwards. His landing was cushioned by the soft density of the many marshmallows, several of which then covered his tummy. The used-car salesman smiled, and then picked up one of the marshmallows, slowly eating it over the next few minutes.

Mrs. Gloop had gone towards the other ball pit with the girls. She picked up two of the marshmallow balls, and returned to where Grandpa Joe was sitting. She offered one of them to the still standing Mrs. Teevee, who frowned, and shook her head. In her opinion, there had been far too much sugary stuff consumed today already. Shrugging, Mrs. Gloop began to eat them herself.

Violet and Veruca had ended up entering the second reject ball pit together. Veruca shouted that she was going to eat more of the marshmallow than Violet, causing Violet to roll her eyes. It wasn't about eating the most, it was about having fun, and enjoying some marshmallows along the way.

The two girls eventually began a ball fight with the marshmallows, and this tempted the still watching Charlie to join them. The entire room enthralled him. There was so much to see here, he didn't want to miss anything, but the fun that the two girls were having was too tempting to ignore. The three kids had a great deal of fun throwing the marshmallows about the place, until a damp ball hit Veruca on the head, and she began to complain about the sticky stuff being in her hair! Violet rolled her eyes again, before sitting down and starting to eat one of the balls. Seeing how much everyone else had enjoyed the flavor, Charlie suddenly realized that he had been so busy watching what everyone else was doing, he was yet to sample one of the balls. As he put the treat into his mouth he smiled in pure bliss. The flavor was unlike anything he could have imagined, and well beyond his ability to describe. It was so good, he almost had a new favorite treat, but his long enjoyment of Wonka chocolate just edged out the new flavor.

After a few more minutes, Willy began the process of gathering the group together again. With some of the adults in the ball pool, alongside the children, this took a good ten minutes to achieve. Indeed, all of the children were gathered together with the remaining adults long before Mr. Salt and Mr. Beauregarde began to wade out, pushing a tidal wave of rejected marshmallows before them.

While they were waiting, Willy mused on how the group had acted in the room. It had surprised him that it had taken Charlie so long to taste the marshmallow balls. Were it not for the look on the boy's face as he surveyed the room, that delay would have been concerning. The utter absorption, and expression of delight, had convinced Willy that it wasn't that Charlie thought something in the sweets worth distrusting. The way the boy reacted when he finally did taste the marshmallow cemented this impression. The keen interest... none of the others mimicked this. All of the children seemed to enjoy the room, even the girls' fathers unbent and seemed willing to have fun. It seemed that the possibilities for selecting his apprentice from within this group were high.

Finally, the entire group had gathered, and they were ready to move on again. As Willy swept the group out of the room ahead of them, using a door at the other end of the room, he suggested that the group make use of the facilities again.

"Our next stop is the Oompa-Loompa Hospital, and I doubt that we shall be welcomed with any warmth were we to trek in with marshmallow stuck to hair, skin, and clothing."

The group considered that a good point, well made, and quickly decamped to the washing-up facilities Willy pointed out to them.

* * *

While the 1971 film did not mention the workers being used to a hot climate, that detail was from the book, and so, 'warts and all' of something not mentioned that hares back to the original source material: just because it was not specifically mentioned does not mean that it is not true... You will also recognise the ongoing quotes from the film, scattered amongst the original thought.

I initially came across the fire door idea when reading The Move (my apologies if it was The Interview, but I'm pretty sure it was The Move) by Turrislucidus. It strikes me as something that could be true for any of the Wonka's.

Turriclucidus: or A Factory at least. It's nice that even as we have things we disagree on, such as which version of the story we prefer, or whether it is a pavement, or sidewalk; there are some things we agree upon completely: the need to keep things in character, not mixing up the different versions of the story, the need to at least attempt a modicum of proof reading...

With that in mind, I am due thanks to the friend who offered to read through this to help with my punctuation: which can be scrappy (to the point where trying to fix it can simply make things worse). They also cast an eagle eye over my text ensuring that anything that is spelt differently between the UK and the US was changed to the American spelling. Since then, I have had to restrain myself from 'fixing' it back!

Luiz4200: You are right in that I don't (didn't) signpost it as AU in the story descriptor, I have now rectified this oversight. From the introductory AN however: AU Wilder Wonka. So, signposted as AU, but not clearly enough. My apologies. This story is AU, as the children do as they are told.

Muhammad Li: I am glad that you are enjoying this. I think that this is what you would get if the parents had bothered to discipline their children some. Well, maybe not Mike, whose mother seems content to teach him how to behave badly. As for Veruca, I don't think she has been told 'no' before today. She might have been a far nicer child if her parents had thought her worth teaching. Mr. Dahl, of course, loved to use his stories to show us what would happen if parents don't bother to instruct their children in how to behave.

My thanks to everyone who has taken the time to read this story. I have been blown away by how popular it is.


	8. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

It took them a good twenty minutes of traversing the corridors to reach the Oompa-Loompa hospital. Mr. Salt was panting by the time they got there, as was Augustus. Willy stopped a short way away from the room.

"Before we go in, I must ask for everyone to keep the noise down. While I do not believe that there is anyone in critical condition here now, I would rather not disturb the peace of those within the hospital too much. We need to keep the disruption to a minimum." As the group acquiesced, Willy continued. "I have many machines in here I would like to tell you about: things that have proven ground-breaking in the way we deal with Oompa-Loompa mishaps, and with the side effects of some of our candies."

The group agreed, with Mrs. Teevee and Mr. Beauregarde looking especially interested in what they might see in here: strange inventions were always interesting. As they reached the door, Willy turned to the group again, and pressed his finger to his lips, a stern frown painting rain storms over his face. Then he pushed the heavy fire-door open.

As warm as the Factory had been up until this moment, the hospital brought the temperature up a notch. Grandpa Joe pulled at his collar and mopped his brow, the latter of which Mr. Salt emulated. Charlie resolved to spend the time at Mr. Wonka's elbow. The man was sure to have many interesting things to say about the various contraptions inside.

Hanging excess clothing up at the door, they went further into the designated hospital area. The first machine they came to was big and round, and had lots of tubes connected to it—too many tubes to count. Each of the tubes had a large sucker attached to it.

"This machine is my Juice Sucking Machine. Remember the gum back in the Inventing Room?"

Everyone agreed that they did, and Violet eyed the machine warily.

"The last Oompa-Loompa to sample the gum turned into a big, blue, beach ball. When we explored what was causing this, we discovered he was full of blueberry juice. We attached this machine to him, and the excess juice was siphoned out of his system."

At that, Mr. Beauregarde turned an aghast look towards his daughter, both communicating their thankfulness, in that one look, that she had not tried out the gum. Being hooked up to that machine looked like no fun at all.

The next machine looked like it had a small coffin attached to it. Mr. Wonka explained that one of his experiments had turned the test Oompa-Loompa's skin into a stretchy, elastic type material. This coffin like machine could be filled with a substance that resembled dough. The Oompa-Loompa would lie down in this substance, with a special mask over their mouth and nose. The substance would give until the lower half of their body was impressed in it. Then the lid, with a similar material would be placed on top of them. In that way, all of their body except from their nose and lips would be covered by the substance. They would be in the box for around eight hours as the substance did its work, and by the time they came out, the extra elasticity had been sorted.

Mrs. Teevee shuddered. She didn't like the idea of being in that tiny little box for so long. She would almost rather keep the unusually stretchy skin over that kind of treatment. Mike was also looking a bit shocked at that idea. All those hours in a confined space in the dark? Not able to watch television to stave off the boredom? That sounded like a horrible punishment to him!

The machine which followed looked at seemed to have arms and legs going all over the place. There were four main metal limbs that came out towards a seat. Each of the limbs then had five smaller tubes. Mr. Wonka explained that this machine was used when the Oompa-Loompas experienced side effects that included having all of their nails pop off. A finger, or toe as the case may be, was placed into each little tube. Then the old nails were slotted in a hole at the other end of that tube. The machine would spend the next four hours reattaching the nails to the nail beds.

Veruca shuddered at the mere idea of having finger or toe nails popping off, and her father also frowned at the machine. Being a businessman, Mr. Salt was used to sitting for long hours, without moving his feet, but the idea of being unable to move his hands in that time frame was not something he could like.

Once the group finished shuddering, they moved on to a contraption which had what seemed like hundreds of tiny boxing gloves attached to it, each no bigger than a thirty-second of an inch in diameter. They were so small that the children ran over to gather around the tiny appendages, so they could see the gloves more clearly. From a distance, they looked more like nerds attached to cocktail sticks. Upon closer examination of the boxing gloves, Augustus drew back. Small as they might be, these things looked menacing.

The rest of the machine was anticlimactic. There was a stool for sitting on, and an adjustable padded table with a circular cut out, some straps languishing to the sides. The boxing gloves were positioned threateningly around this padded table.

Willy explained that one of their candies had had the unfortunate side effect of producing symptoms similar to lockjaw, otherwise known as Tetanus. This discovery had sent them into a panic, until they discovered that the cause of the stiffness was nothing to do with bacteria. Instead, it turned out, the candy's unique formula had allowed for the entry of crystallized sugars into the musculature of the jaw through the side of the mouth. These sugars had then packed together against the jaw bone, causing stiffness. The person would sit on the stool, and the table would be brought up to a perfect height for them to rest their chin on the padded table, before being strapped in place. This put them in the perfect position for the boxing gloves to do their job.

The small boxing gloves were soft, and the pummeling wouldn't cause a bruise, but they were also strong enough to target the area with enough pressure that, over the course of a day, they succeeded in breaking down the excess of sugar, forcing it from the jaw area. It had taken perseverance, and a few put-out Oompa-Loompas, to find out the exact rhythm to accomplish the miracle, but they had done it in the end.

After all was said and done, that particular candy had been abandoned. Some of the ingredients, modified to ensure that the side effect would not be replicated, had been recycled for use in the Everlasting Gobstopper recipe though, so it wasn't a complete loss.

Violet shuddered again at this, as did Mrs. Gloop and Augustus. It quickly turned out that the latter pair were horrified at the idea of being unable to eat for that length of time, while the former, so used to chewing, was not fond of the idea of being unable to use her jaws.

Their last stop was at a machine which ended at an adjustable metal ring. There were strange bumps on the inside of the ring. Mr. Wonka explained that sometimes the Oompa-Loompas discovered that tasting some treat would have the effect of swelling up an appendage: whether head, hand, foot, arm or leg. The affected area was put inside the metal band, which then started to constrict until it became tight against the swelling. Electrodes inside the bumps then began sending impulses through the body, telling the brain that the body had got confused, and that there was no need for the swelling to have occurred. This led, over the course of around five hours, to the swelling reducing, until the appendage reached its normal size.

Grandpa Joe looked at the machine in amazed wonder. The other machines had been fascinating, but this one outclassed them all. If they had had access to treatments like that when he was younger… If only there was some kind of treatment that would settle his stomach, so he could have some more of the wonderful Wonka candy…

As he swept the group back out of the hospital to collect their warmer garments, Willy looked down at the young limpet that still seemed to be stood next to him.

"Did you like seeing the various machines in the hospital, Charlie?"

The boy looked up, a smile gracing his face. "Oh yes, Mr. Wonka! I never thought that a hospital could hold so many interesting machines. It's fantastic the different ways you can help your workers recover from the mishaps they suffer."

Willy squeezed the boy's shoulder. "Well, not every hospital has equipment quite like this, Charlie, though I would say that all hospitals have intriguing machines of various kinds. As far as helping my workers recover from any mishaps they may suffer is concerned, well, given I bare responsibility for accidents at work, I also bare responsibility for the person's recovery. It would be unconscionable of me to let my workers suffer that way, and not attempt to help them recover, wouldn't it?"

Charlie looked at him, and thought about this. It would be... what? of Mr. Wonka to not help out? It wouldn't be nice of him, that was for sure. Maybe Mr. Wonka meant it would be wrong for him to ignore the situation. "I see your point," agreed Charlie. "It wouldn't be nice, or right, to ignore them."

With a final pat on the shoulder, Willy gestured to Charlie's sweater, still hanging up on its hook, and then towards the rest of the party, who were standing waiting on them. Charlie quickly grabbed his belongings, and rushed to join the others, ready to exit the hospital.

* * *

My apologies for the lengthy silence. I discovered that parts of this chapter were in need of significant rewrites (even more so than in Turrislucidus' excellent look at what can be involved in such a thing in her work 'the process'), and it took time to rectify the matter.

Turrisulucidus - thanks for the thoughtful review again. I am glad you enjoy the details I come up with for the rooms. I agree MattTheWriter072 does have some wonderful examples as well.

Luiz4200 - Thanks for your thoughts as well. I think that the amount of travel involved in getting the children to the Factory is routinely ignored. I have always thought it was just as well for Charlie that he did live in the same town. I cannot imagine his family being able to afford to get him there if this were not the case. The others are obviously affluent enough that the distance wouldn't phase them, but for this to work, Charlie had to stay there.

Thanks also to everyone who continues to read this story.


	9. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Once they were safely gathered in the outer corridor again, Mr. Wonka swept his eyes over the party, noting how their time in the hospital had affected them. Yes. It seemed that most of the group had received a shock there. They were maybe realizing that candy inventing wasn't as levity inducing as they might have suspected.

"Shall we roll on?" he enquired, having garnered their attention. He encouraged them along three corridors, and then up a short pathway, to where yet another strange looking contraption was sitting. This, it appeared, was the Wonkamobile, and it used fizzy juice to propel itself. It was even more of a squeeze for everyone to fit on this machine than the Wonkatania had been, but with care, they managed it.

Mr. Wonka sat in the driver's seat, with Mrs. Gloop and Mr. Salt in front, and the two girls crouched just in front of their feet. Grandpa Joe had a seat at the back, with Augustus next to him. Mrs. Teevee stood, holding onto the back of Wonka's seat, directly in front of Grandpa Joe, with Mr. Beauregarde at the other side. This left Charlie and Mike standing on the steps on either side of the large cylindrical boiler. They had briefly considered sitting on the wheel arches as an alternative position, but determined that it would be easier to stand. Wonka assured the group that the journey wouldn't last long.

It was when Mr. Wonka started driving that the group discovered the other major disadvantage of the machine – it spewed foam everywhere. No seat was safe as the substance spurted from every imaginable orifice in gargantuan quantities. Each of the passengers was plastered in the horrible stuff in moments, much to the disgruntled complaints of the adults. Mr. Salt and Mr. Beauregarde were especially vicious in their deriding comments. Augustus objected just as violently, while Mrs. Teevee stated that she would send Wonka the bill for cleaning her outfit.

A moment later, they went beneath a tall contraption that looked similar to a foot bridge, and in an instant they were all clean and dry again. As they exclaimed in surprised wonderment at this amazing phenomenon, Willy informed them that the tall object was called 'Hsawaknow'. Upon hearing the unusual word, Mike's mother asked in confusion if he was now talking Japanese.

"No, it's Wonkawash spelled backwards!" Violet giggled at the explanation. Willy turned and smiled at the girl, noticing that Charlie was biting his lip as well, while Augustus frowned and crossed his arms across his chest. Two hopeful candidates, definitely two hopefuls, Willy mused in relief, even as he shook his head at the way Augustus had reacted.

Augustus had been fairly colorless during most of the tour, but had been kind, and tried to be helpful. And yet, there had been something about the boy which made Willy feel hesitant about him. Was Augustus just putting on an act? Seeing the boy's dudgeon at side effects that were, for the Factory, an everyday occurrence confirmed Willy's opinion that Augustus wouldn't be a good fit. Charlie and Violet however – they had real potential.

The realization put a spring in Willy's step. He had felt such ambivalence to the tour in the morning. It had seemed so pointless, so likely to end in failure. Now it seemed that he would have options. Were it not for the fact that he didn't want it possible for the future Factory owners to fight with each other, he might even have considered having two winners. Only one would be possible, but maybe the runner up could have more to do with the Factory in future. Willy thrilled at this thought. Charlie had a slight edge on Violet, but there was still time for that to change.

Then, thinking done for the moment, Willy ushered the group onwards, requesting that they put on special suits that would protect them from the equipment in the room. This was the Wonkavision Room, Mr. Wonka informed them, and it was the last room on the scheduled tour, as he was sure they would be more than ready to go and get their evening meal now.

When Mr. Wonka had a bar of chocolate the size of a mattress brought in, the children stared at it in disbelief, with Violet exchanging a glance with Augustus, whose mother cautioned them that they weren't to touch it. Veruca started to exclaim, "Daddy, I w…" but catching Willy's eye, she trailed off. "Never mind," she finished. On hearing that, Violet flashed a smile at the self-centered girl. That was progress from earlier. Veruca startled at that reaction. She wasn't used to her contemporaries being friendly towards her. If it inspired liking, maybe it would be worthwhile continuing the effort at not demanding everything she saw.

Willy had them stand well out of range, and set the process going by pressing a button. The next thing they knew, the chocolate bar disappeared; suddenly Veruca caught sight of some flashes of colored light moving in the air above their heads. "What's that Wonka?" she demanded imperiously.

Willy shot an exasperated glance at her, before deigning to answer. "That's the chocolate bar, flying over our heads, in a million tiny pieces," he explained. "Now, come and look at the screen," he suggested, pointing at something that looked somewhat similar to a TV screen.

Mr. Wonka looked slightly put out when Mike refused to take the now far smaller bar of chocolate out of the TV screen, but quickly moved on to suggest that Charlie take it. Augustus pouted at that, as he had wanted to do so, but Violet smiled. If any of them deserved this extra bar, then Charlie did.

She had even more reason to smile as, after he'd tasted the chocolate, Charlie looked at the tour group and split up the bar so that there was enough for each person to have a square, and then he offered it around. Everyone except Grandpa Joe, and Mike (Grandpa Joe was still feeling sick, and Mike preferred other candy to chocolate), smiled and thanked him, before helping themselves to a square; even Willy took one with a smile, before encouraging Charlie to have the last bits. If Willy had had any remaining doubts about which of these children was the right one to invite to be his apprentice, this action settled them all. They would have to do something about the grandfather, yes, but they could plan for that, given more time.

It was when he glanced up from this brief interaction that Willy spotted Mike starting to move towards the machine, stating that he would be the first person to be sent across space by TV. Once again disbelieving that anything he said would have any impact on the boy, Mr. Wonka called out half-heartedly, "Stop! Don't! Come back!"

Veruca looked at him sharply. "Why don't you tell him properly, Wonka," she groused. "Children tend to respond better if you make it sound like you believe they will listen to you!"

Her father laughed, and encouraged her. "You tell him, Veruca," he told her, causing her to flash him a strained smile.

Willy glanced at her in surprise, there was a turn up for the books. However, she had got it all wrong. "The only thing I need to do is tell the boy that he is not to touch the equipment. The fact he chooses to ignore my warning is neither here nor there. It is not my responsibility to discipline Mrs. Teevee's son. If she wants him to be small enough to fit into her pocket, that's her concern. Perhaps she thinks a bite-sized version will be easier to discipline."

Mrs. Teevee squawked at this. "Mike! Stop! Come back!"

Mr. Beauregarde happened to be standing next to the machine, and scooped the boy into his arms as Mike jumped up onto the platform. Mike began yelling, kicking his legs, and throwing his arms around, in an attempt to be set down.

"Stop that at once, young man!" Mrs. Teevee admonished. "You saw those machines at the Oompa-Loompa hospital. Do you really want to make use of one of them if you shrink yourself down enough to fit into my handbag?" Mrs. Teevee shuddered, remembering some of the machines they had seen, and one or two of the procedures Mr. Wonka had described. The idea of her son going through any of those procedures made her shiver. Mr. Beauregarde put a now quiet Mike down on the ground. With the horrors of the hospital so fresh in their memories, the reminder was enough to sober anyone.

Mr. Wonka's voice broke the silence, in relaxed tones that belied the suggestion he was about to make.

"And that's if you were lucky. Little boys are very different to chocolate: if that gets put back together the wrong way, the worst that will happen is that the caramel is outside the chocolate. What would happen to you, if you were put back together the wrong way? It would get very messy, very quickly."

Mike jumped back in surprise, having not expected Mr. Wonka to join in the conversation, and with the shock of this new view, had very quickly returned to his mother's side; a mother who had gone very pale, as she heard Willy's description of what could have gone wrong, if Mike had managed to travel in the same way the chocolate had. She took her son by the hand, and, feeling somewhat shocked himself, Mike leaned into her side. He wouldn't be doing that again in a hurry.

A few minutes later, Mr. Wonka was ushering them out of the room, and they were each removing the special suits they had worn into the TV room. It then became clear that the tour was over: Willy was ushering them all to the exit.

* * *

AN: Looks like when I get something that doesn't need major edits, I can post far quicker! As you can see, this story is now winding to a close. Just the epilogue to come now.

Thanks once again to everyone for reading, and reviewing. The Vagabond Scribbler: I suspect you might have found your answer in the chapter. Sorry if it disappoints, but I simply don't see that solution being workable. Luiz4200: I'm glad you enjoyed, I am sure not having to experience the effects of the machines will add to the childrens relief that they did as they were told. Turrislucidus: *flinches back* I am so glad I don't have to deal with writing that awful man! I shall leave writing his controversial viewpoints to those who enjoy that universe!

As always - if you recognise something from elsewhere, the chances are that it doesn't belong to me.


	10. The Finale

Unsure, Willy stood at the inner door, observing the gathered group as they clustered around. He never would have imagined that the day would turn out like this. One question remained: which child would lead the group out of the factory? He had no idea, and no desire to guess. The day had been a revelation to him in children's behavior. At the start of the tour, he had considered the fictional Sara Crewe, believing that there was no chance that any of the children could live up to her. There he had been wrong: some of the children shared at least some of her traits. But had he read any one of these children today accurately?

In the end, it was Violet who bounced forward. Willy looked to her, giving her a smile that provoked a wider grin in return. Earlier, Willy had described her as obnoxious, rude, and self-obsessed, but Violet had proven that she had the potential to be anything but those things. After she was shocked out of her selfish thinking, Violet had proven to be kind and caring, thinking of others in much the same way that Sara would have done. As she shook his hand for the second time this day, Violet suddenly dipped her hand into her pocket and pulled out her gobstopper.

"Thank you for giving me this, Mr. Wonka," she commented, holding the gobstopper out to him. "I would feel wrong taking it, after the wonderful time you have given us today," she explained, as he took it back.

"Wrong, Violet? How so? I gave it to you."

"I don't trust myself with it, Mr. Wonka. As wonderful as it is, I'm sure I'd show it to someone, and you asked us not to do so."

Willy's smile widened, if that were possible. "Why, thank you, Violet," he responded, "given your stated sense of duty, I feel no hesitation in giving you this book of vouchers, which will enable you to request the candy you would like each month for the rest of your life. Just fill in the details, and send it in. At the end of the year, you shall receive a new book of vouchers alongside that month's requested candy."

"Really?" Violet squealed, causing Willy to wince at the volume. Excitable young girls were the same the world over it seemed, but for all that, Violet had a lot going for her. If it weren't for Charlie... Maybe it could work that Violet was somehow involved in the company. Or maybe Willy could help her into the kind of career she wanted, by sponsoring her training. In that way, he could maintain a link to her, and monitor her progress. In future, she might be a good friend for Charlie; if she retained her current good sense, that was.

Before Willy had finished his thoughts, Violet escaped through the door, and down the wide stairs, to where the waiting golden hands held the coats. As Violet reached up, the hands holding her coat and hat released them into her waiting arms. Laughing, she gathered them up. Her father had to run to catch his, as let go early, they almost fell to the floor. Having no choice now, the tour truly over, Violet ran out into the waiting sunshine.

Augustus immediately took her place, heedless of Mr. Salt insisting that it should be his Veruca next. This was the boy Willy had taken to be a thoughtless glutton: one who would see food, grab it and eat it, regardless of who it might belong to. This was true to a certain extent, although, in that regard, Grandpa Joe had proven to be the worse culprit. It came as no surprise then, given what had gone before, that Augustus plucked his gobstopper out of his pocket, declaring, "You have this back. This I do not need!"

This offer lacked the genuineness of Violet's action. She had had a thought for herself, and her limitations, but this gesture was purely motivated by the results: Augustus simply wanted the candy. Willy did have to admit that Augustus wasn't averse to sharing, though. That had been proven in the mine. Augustus had also shown he could be kind and thoughtful on occasion, as seen in the Trampoline Room, and in the Golden Geese room. These elements were reminiscent of Sara. His temperament—too given to gluttony—wasn't to be trusted though, and this raised a feeling of caution.

Beyond these few details, Augustus had remained a nonentity on the tour. Despite Willy's liking for Mrs. Gloop, and the knowledge that if the hunt had been for an adult, she would have been handed the prize, Willy had to acknowledge that Augustus's few good traits simply weren't enough for Willy to feel that the boy could be a good fit for the Factory. This sense of mis-fit was intensified by the way Augustus had reacted to the Wonkamobile and Hsawaknow experience. Anyone who was frustrated by such strange happenings was likely to grow to hate the place. Plus, while Willy had felt the beginnings of liking for him, the spark that raised Willy's interest in Violet was missing.

With these last thoughts, Willy shook Augustus's hand, and gave him the book of vouchers, pausing to observe while Augustus and Mrs. Gloop took their outer accoutrements from the golden hands. Would they figure out that those were live Oompa-Loompas, standing on platforms behind the patently flimsy wall? No matter; the two went the way of Violet, into the fresh, sunny, afternoon.

Veruca came next, bearing an imperious air as she stood at arm's length, and dropped the gobstopper into his hand. A spoilt minx who didn't know the meaning of the word 'no,' Willy had called her. His observations had proven accurate here, he concluded. Veruca was the child who was least like his ideals, although she did show slight signs that potential could blossom if, in future, she were parented with sense. She had been spoiled in similar way to how Sara had been pampered and pandered to in Miss. Minchin's boarding school when they believed in the diamond mines. The treatment had not left her as untouched as it had Sara, however.

"I do not want this." Veruca informed her host. "I would far rather have the book of vouchers," she concluded, reveling in the idea that she could order as much as she wanted of her favorite Wonka candy.

Willy sighed as he handed over the coveted book of vouchers, and observed the way the girl grabbed at her expensive mink coat and hat that were still being held by the golden Oompa-Loompa hands. The hands retained the garments in their grip, despite the change in tension. "I shall take those," she exclaimed, frowning, tugging on the garments again. The hands let go unexpectedly, the sudden lack of resistance serving to almost place Veruca's posterior on the floor. Regaining her balance, if not her composure, Veruca didn't wait to be helped into her outerwear, and was soon out with the other three children.

Willy enjoyed a moment of quiet, before turning to look at the remaining two children. His gaze immediately fell on Mike. The young boy was still looking pale, clinging to his mother, with tear tracks showing on his cheek. With barely a second's hesitation, Willy dipped his hand into his pocket, and walked towards the two. He withdrew his hand from his pocket, holding two square packages.

"Would these help you feel a little better, Mike?" came the question. Mike automatically held his hand out in response, and Willy placed the two wrapped packages into his palm. Looking closer, Mike saw that he now held two, warm, Laffy Taffy packages, one flavored sour apple, and the other grape. Mike gave Willy a small smile, before slipping the sour apple into his pocket. That would be nice for later. For now, he found the grape flavor more appealing. He clumsily unwrapped the sweet, and slipped it into his mouth, sucking on the treat for a while, before beginning to chew.

Willy drew back some, allowing the two a little space, and waited for them to approach him. It didn't take long before Mrs. Teevee began to draw her son to the exit. She almost pulled him right past Willy without stopping, when Mike stopped dead. The boy copied the actions of the other three children by pulling out the gobstopper Willy had given him earlier on in the tour. Oblivious, for the moment, of his mother's shocked calling of his name, Mike handed Willy the gobstopper. Mrs. Teevee tried to snatch it away, even as Willy enveloped Mike's hand, candy and all, in one of his far larger ones. Mike turned to his mother.

"Mom, Mr. Wonka was nice to me. He tried to make me feel better, and even remembered that I don't like the taste of chocolate. He didn't have to do that. Now I want to do something nice for him. I don't need the gobstopper, and you don't need the money that someone else might give you for it. Please respect my decision to return it to him!" Willy blinked in surprise, before turning his eyes upon Mrs. Teevee. He brought his free hand up to his mouth to cover a cough of laughter at the way her jaw had dropped in her shock. Then he turned his eyes to Mike again, and opened his hand, giving the small boy freedom to choose his next move.

Willy had originally described Mike as mush, untrustworthy, and a wannabe gunslinger. Now, the last fifteen minutes had shown that Mike was one of the children with the most potential. What Mike did now would decide whether Willy put the boy in the same category as Violet, and saw him as someone to keep an eye on, or simply someone he had a contractual obligation towards, in the form of candy supplies. The chocolatier smiled, pondering how little Mike would appreciate being compared with a girl. He ought to be honored, though: he, too, might have some of the qualities Willy cherished in the character of Sara Crewe. He, like Violet, might also be worth nurturing.

Mike looked Willy in the eye, before placing the gobstopper into Willy's hand. "Thank you Mike." Willy responded, approval at the boy's tenacity shining through in his tone. He held out the now familiar voucher book. "As you already know Mike, Wonka's makes many candies that don't include chocolate, and it might be that you want something to offer visitors, on occasion. Just send in your requests, and we shall ship them out by return of post."

Mike's smile widened. "That's great. Thank you, Mr. Wonka. I appreciate it."

Willy shook Mike's hand again. "You are more than welcome. I would appreciate hearing how you get on in future, Mike. There is a lot of good in you, and I believe that this is worth nurturing. Let me know if you are ever in the area again."

As he chuckled inside, Willy kept his expression caring. While he meant what he said, and felt the same way about Violet, he had only said this last because he knew how much it would annoy Mrs. Teevee. While attempting in return to be polite about this suggestion, she looked all the while as if she were sucking on a lemon. Putting a hand on her son's shoulder, she ushered him to the hands, and retrieving their jackets, they exited the building.

Taking a moment, and a deep breath to settle his rising excitement, Willy turned round to see how Charlie was doing. Mike's new-found tenacity, and wish to do what he believed to be right, despite the barriers his Mom might put in his way might be appealing, but Charlie had showcased elements of Sara's character from the first moment Willy had laid eyes on the boy. He was caring, compassionate, and had shown his wish to do the right thing from the start of the tour. He might sometimes become whiny, but overall, he was a good child, despite the adversity that his life had heaped on top of him. He would fit in well with the Factory, and if any of these children deserved the chance Willy had on offer, Charlie did.

One glance at the boy's pale, woebegone face had Willy's gleeful grin relaxing into something far more sympathetic. Joe stood with a hand on Charlie's shoulder, a frown decorating his visage. Willy walked towards the pair, and dropped to a kneeling position, taking Charlie's hands into his own. Before Willy had the chance to say anything, Charlie spoke, sounding close to tears.

"I don't have a gobstopper to give you, Mr. Wonka," he admitted.

Willy's eyes widened in sudden realization. This was the problem?! No! Whatever the other children might think, it wasn't about the gobstoppers! But Charlie didn't know that! He should— he'd been on to the problem; one of them, at least. "My dear boy! Yes! You have no gobstopper! Did you think that having or not having a gobstopper was important? Why, my dear boy, those are not even the real Everlasting Gobstoppers."

"They're not?"

"They're not. You said it yourself, to your Grandpa Joe here. You thought them the wrong shape."

"I did, I guess," said Charlie, less glum. "You could hear that?"

"In addition to the many languages I speak fluently, I also read lips. I suggest you don't forget that, but never mind about that now. Do you know what _is _important now, Charlie?"

Charlie shook his head.

"That you knew they were the wrong shape, without my having to tell you. And now that you know that giving back a gobstopper isn't the secret to receiving the voucher book, would you like to receive the voucher book, which is got by virtue of the handshake at the end of the tour alone—"

"Well, I'll be," cut in Grandpa Joe, cackling meanly. "Wouldn't Augustus be kicking himself to know he could have kept the gobstopper _and _got the vouchers—"

Wily's look of daggers at the old man cut off the unwelcome interruption. "As I was saying, Charlie, would you prefer the vouchers, or the other prize? The prize that goes to the candidate that loves, and can assess for himself, what he sees in my Factory?"

The woebegone look changed into to an expression of puzzlement. "The other prize?"

"Yes, the other prize. Those young people out there in the courtyard now, your tour-mates, some of them were close competitors to you, but they have only received the consolation prize. You, Charlie… You, if you'd like it, have won a prize so amazing that you would never have imagined it was on offer."

Charlie's puzzled expression had turned to one of disbelief. He'd bested the others? "I've won an amazing prize, if I want it?" came the timid query.

"Yes! You have!" Willy was openly exulting now. A glance at Charlie's continued bewilderment led to Willy stifling a chuckle. He could tell the lad was wondering what he might have won that was that good. With Charlie's next question, Willy knew he was right.

"What have I won?"

The pleading question returned a look of compassion to Willy's face, before mischievousness swept it away. Should he speak plainly, or could he get away with talking in riddles? Plain was most likely best: the boy was off-kilter enough. "A few months ago, I set myself a challenge. I realized that I needed to bring someone into the Factory to make sure that the Oompa-Loompas are provided for, when I can no longer do so. Someone to learn about inventing new candies, and machines. Someone to join me in my work.

"I needed someone who would fit into Factory life, but also, someone I liked; someone I could trust. I'm not the easiest man in the world to get along with, Charlie, but with the wrong person, with a Veruca, or an Augustus, or a Mike, as he was earlier on in the tour… put me with one of those, and I become unbearable.

"Today, I was giving all of you the chance to audition for the role of my apprentice. I was also putting myself through a test. Could I find someone I thought I could get along with? I came very close to answering that question with a 'no', but then you came on the scene, and it seems that the answer is 'yes.'

"It all depends on you now. Will you do me the very great favor of accepting the offer of becoming my apprentice?"

Willy didn't have to wait long for the answer, as the boy launched himself into Willy's arms.

"Do you really mean it? Are you being serious?" asked Charlie, sniffling through quick intakes of breath.

"I've never been more serious about anything."

Charlie drew back, looking deeply into Mr. Wonka's eyes, as if searching for the truth. He must have found what he was looking for, as a few minutes later he settled back into Willy's arms, hugging him tightly. "I would love it!" Charlie stated.

Willy found himself beaming. There were certainly many things that still needed to be explored and decided— such as Charlie's living arrangements: the possibility of what those might be like was a real concern to Willy. Given the way Joe had behaved on the tour—and just now—Willy would prefer it if the family did not enter the Factory: alternatives would have to be explored. But there was time for that, and at least the family lived nearby. That made things far less complicated; less urgent.

Loosening his hold on Charlie, Willy sighed in contentment. Despite the challenges ahead, this day, this experiment, this farce, could not have turned out any better.

* * *

Thank you once again to everyone for continuing to read this story. My gratitude is also due to the friend who did me the very great favour of not only nursing the story from a oneshot that Would Not Finish into a presentable multi-chapter story, but was also willing to debate changes in the text as I I prepared each chapter for posting, and double checked my sometimes dubious grammar for sense. One of these days I shall gain greater mastery of this!

To those who were kind enough to review, thank you, once again, for sharing your thoughts. Verucabeyotch, yes, Willy was being particularly descriptive there. I feel that this part of the chapter wouldn't be out of place in some creepy story... Young Frankenstein anyone?

Turrislucidous, thank you for so faithfully registering your thoughts. Yes, Veruca still has much to learn. I am unfamiliar with that film.

Hopefully my next story won't be quite so many years in the making!


End file.
